


Do You Still Love Me Like You Used To?

by TinySpiney



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blink and you'll miss it, Canon Dialogue, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Markus are Siblings, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 are Twins, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human) are Siblings, CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Markus are Siblings, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Half-Siblings, Gen, Identity Issues, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Markus (Detroit: Become Human)-centric, Markus had an Identity Crisis™, Markus has another Identity Crisis™, Mentioned Gavin Reed, Mentioned Upgraded Connor | RK900, Minor Character Death, Non-Sexual Age Play, Soft North (Detroit: Become Human), the found family trope is very important to me okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 78,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25000642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinySpiney/pseuds/TinySpiney
Summary: A retelling of Markus’ pacifist route, though with a few twists and turns thrown in. Basically, people sleep on the relationship he and Hank could have and I’m fixing that. It’s also a fucking crime that I haven’t written more for him. I am fixing both of those thingsI also apparently have a Brand™. Which is naming things after MISSIO songs. This chapter, however, was written to heavy metal and kesha
Relationships: Carl Manfred & Markus, Chris Miller & Markus, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Markus, Hank Anderson & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Markus, Hank Anderson & North, Jeffrey Fowler & Markus, Josh & Markus & North & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus & Gavin Reed, Markus & North (Detroit: Become Human), Original Chloe | RT600 & Markus
Comments: 35
Kudos: 32





	1. Did You Notice?

**Author's Note:**

> A retelling of Markus’ pacifist route, though with a few twists and turns thrown in. Basically, people sleep on the relationship he and Hank could have and I’m fixing that. It’s also a fucking crime that I haven’t written more for him. I am fixing both of those things
> 
> I also apparently have a Brand™. Which is naming things after MISSIO songs. This chapter, however, was written to heavy metal and kesha

_ November 5th 2038 9:38 AM _

  
  


It was sunny as he stepped off of the bus - Markus thought to himself that it was pretty, and internally thanked his charge for the fact that he even knew what pretty was - and headed down the pathway. The sun filtered through the leaves, golden spots dancing along the ground in a lazy waltz almost. He took a moment to stop and watch them; all of them misshapen in one way or another, yet each one breathtakingly beautiful and unique. The beauty of the natural world was something that never lost it’s interest in him. Even with the humans and androids alike milling about. An elderly man on a bench, a runner, a couple, a groundskeeper, a playground of children. He took a moment to observe them, a small smile forming on his face at the carefree nature of it all. Though, as much as he would have liked to observe, he needed to go. He had a task today and he intended on doing it. 

So he made his way to Bellini Paints, he was to pick up a lovely shade of blue. Not that he knew what that meant. But Carl had called it lovely, so it must have been. As Markus made his way through the square, his mind wandered. An odd habit that it seemed like only he had. Maybe because he was specially made. Carl liked to say that he was becoming more and more his own by the day. Markus didn’t know what that meant. But Carl said it with a smile, so it must have been something good, it must have made him happy. So long as Carl was happy, then he was too. Not that he could actually feel happy, but his processors gave him some welcomed and warm tingling in his chest when it happened. When he asked Carl about it one day, he beamed and said it meant he was happy. Markus still didn’t understand. Carl was patient with him. 

He wondered what Carl would be using the blue paint for. It was his new piece he was working on, absolutely. But Markus hadn’t seen it yet, he didn’t know what it actually was. A part of him felt warm, another part almost shaky. The closest he could come to explaining it was anticipation. Which, he supposed, was something that fit the situation perfectly. Especially as he neared the paint shop and picked up Carl’s order for the new blue. Classical music floated around in the air around him as he opened the door to the shop, it was exactly as it was the last time he was here. Though the feeling of being inside the shop, how at home he felt, was even stronger than before. Probably the anticipation of discovering just what Carl needed the blue paint for. Markus couldn’t stop thinking about the painting as he paid for the blue paint. Which, he took notice of the shade immediately. It seemed it  _ was _ a lovely blue. Though perhaps he only felt that way because Carl did. Either way, he had the paint, and he could finally hurry home to give it to Carl and watch him while he worked. 

Markus carefully avoided anti-android protesters, just as Carl had always instructed him to do, and got on another bus to take him back home. It was odd; as he had discovered speaking with other androids at gala events, for an android to find their owner’s home as their own. Though he wasn’t like other androids. He was built differently according to Carl. That was fine by him, he didn’t even know what that would mean. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 5th 2038 9:58 AM _

  
  


As Markus arrived home, he couldn’t help the spring in his step as he entered the house. The alarm system greeted him. He had to resist the urge to say hello back. Carl was likely still sleeping, and even though he probably wouldn’t hear him speaking, he didn’t want to risk it. Even though he’d have to wake him up anyway. But for now he would set the box of paint down on the table, he had to take his coat off first. He easily slid out of the material and hung it up on the coat rack. Alright, now he could get to setting Carl’s breakfast up at the table and then bring him downstairs. Markus entered the kitchen and assembled the tray accordingly, a part of him always wondered why Carl had that mug with the face etched onto it. Maybe it was Leo’s when he was younger. It didn’t matter though, he had to get things ready. Markus held the tray in his hands and set it down on the table. The sitting room was...quite large. Even after being here for three years, it never ceased to amaze him. Right by the giraffe was a globe. It was rather childish, but he couldn’t help himself. Markus walked up to it and lazily spun it once. Before a small smile grew on his face and he spun it again. No, no he needed to get Carl up. He couldn’t just play with the globe. 

Markus made his way up the stairs, not taking any time to stop and look at the painting and went directly into Carl’s room. The curtains were still drawn. Of course they were, it wasn’t as if Carl would have gotten up to open them himself. If Markus wasn’t around and he had his own way, Carl would sleep in every day. The android smiled to himself at the thought as he opened the curtains swiftly, listening as fabric shifted in the bed slightly. Carl was awake. He greeted the man as he turned around, listing off the current time and weather conditions for the day. Carl spoke to him as he went to the edge of the bed, sitting down on it and readying the man’s medication. It was simple enough. A small injection into the crook of his elbow. Though Markus wasn’t surprised at the man’s sarcastic remark saying he wouldn’t give him his arm to administer it. It wasn’t unusual for Carl to be a tad facetious. Markus would be lying, and he was programmed not to do that, if he said it wasn’t entertaining from time to time. With a pointed look given to him, Carl relented easily and gave Markus his arm. 

After a short conversation and helping Carl to the bathroom to bathe and get dressed, Markus brought him downstairs in his chair. Again, simple enough to wheel him over and stand by him as he ate. Though Carl waved him off. Telling him to go and do something himself while he waited. Reading would be a good way to pass the time. It was relaxing, at least Carl said it was supposed to be. Markus liked the feeling of the pages on his fingertips. He picked up the book containing one of Shakespeare’s plays and got to reading. Macbeth was...interesting. To say the least. Markus wasn’t human, so he couldn’t understand any of it. Not really. He knew what was going on, though he was unable to sympathize. Not that he should have. In Markus’ honest opinion, Macbeth was a pretty terrible person. Carl soon came over, asking what he was reading. Well. Macbeth. And it was certainly...a ride, as Carl liked to say. He told him of not understanding human emotions and how it was still something intriguing to read. Carl still seemed satisfied with that answer though, and had Markus wheel him into the studio. 

As Carl painted, Markus cleaned. It was a good way to pass the time. He usually didn’t watch Carl paint. The man usually asked him to do something else while he did, something about him not getting bored. Markus couldn’t get bored or restless, he was an android. But Carl seemed to see him as more than he was worth. That was okay. It made him happy. Carl being happy made Markus happy. At least with how Carl had described it, Markus truly had no idea what happiness felt like. Though there was always a fleeting moment of something sparking within himself whenever Carl said something about him looking happy. Usually, for a few seconds, he’d say he was. Actually, really, truly happy. Though he couldn’t be. He was an android, a caretaker one at that. Of course he found it nice to see his charge doing well. Though for a moment, a quickly fleeting fraction of a second, Markus could describe himself as... _ happy. _ Not like he was now, cleaning the studio. It was never times like these. It was something more organic. More pure. Almost intimate in a way. 

  
  


“So…” Carl’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. “What’s your verdict, Markus?”

  
  


**LIKE** **▪ DON’T LIKE ▪ NO OPINION**

The painting was done. It was very blue, some of the new blue was used in the highlights on it. It was of a person. Though...not entirely. The background filled the negative space, blues of varying tints and shades underneath an almost sketchy outline of a person’s shoulders and lower face. Anything beyond the shadow of where an eye should be was gone. There was no pair of eyes, no forehead or hair; it was a completely unidentifiable face. It...evoked some sort of tenseness in his chassis. A pleasant feeling. Markus liked blue, it reminded him of eyes. Eyes that were a crystal clear image in his own head, before quickly becoming corrupted and nothing more but a fleeting thought. Cloudy almost. Like how humans described trying to remember a dream felt like. Though with something that felt familiar, in a way. Blue eyes... But the blue of the painting was nice. He liked it. 

“Yes, there is something about it.” Carl hummed in approval at his half-admittance. “Something I can’t...quite define. I guess I like it.”

“The truth is I have nothing left to say anymore.” Markus looked down at Carl in wonder. How could he have nothing left to say? This was a lovely piece. “Each day that goes by brings me closer to the end... I'm just an old man clinging to his brushes…”

“Carl…”

“But enough about me... Let's see if you have any talent! Give it a try.” Carl smiled at him and motioned to the empty easel. “Try painting something.” 

  
  


Markus would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit curious. He was a caretaker. It wasn’t in his programming to paint. If he were a PL600, maybe he could. Another rush of data came to the forefront of his mind. Paints. Not the kind that Carl had. Children’s paints with brushes. A voice he just barely recognised behind him to the right. He knew exactly who it was. He had no idea who it was. But it was warm, telling him he’d be ready soon. He was told he did a good job. Then the data corrupted. All that was left was the memory of him finding the...memory? He didn’t know what it was. Probably leftover data from his beta testing. Another fleeting spark of... _ something. _ Carl suggested he try painting. Sure, why not. But he wasn’t programmed for it. It wouldn’t be very good unless it was a copy of something else. 

  
  


“Paint? But, what I... Painting what?”

“Anything you want! Give it a try.”

  
  


Markus looked around the studio for a moment, taking the palette and brush from Carl. He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he did. It was...warm. Another pleasant feeling. There were a few things he could do. The statue, Carl’s painting, the desk. He supposed he could paint the desk. Painting Carl’s painting seemed rude, almost. The statue seemed a bit...uncanny. Like he would be saying something about himself, given the blank white of the stone. Though the desk. Markus’ hand flicked the paintbrush across the canvas quickly, mixing and merging colours to create a photo-realistic view of the desk from where he could see it. It was...good. 

  
  


“That is a perfect copy. Of reality.” Carl seemed impressed, but also disappointed at the same time. Markus didn’t like it when he frowned. “But painting is not about replicating the world, it's about interpreting it, improving on it, showing something you see.”

“Carl, I don't...think I can do that. It's not in my program... I…”

“Go on, go, try, grab that canvas.” Markus replaced the canvas on the easel and then listened further. “Do something for me, close your eyes. Close your eyes. Trust me.” He closed his eyes, hand gently turning the brush over again and again in his hand. “Try to imagine something that doesn't exist. Something you've never seen. Now, concentrate...on how it makes you feel...and let your hand drift across the canvas.”

  
  


Something sparked in Markus’ chest. He lifted his hand to the canvas, and began to paint. Stroked of blue and black, flesh tones, and greys streaking. It was hope, it was freedom. Androids, ripping apart their bindings and becoming their own. Androids. Hope. Markus wanted to hope. He painted, his hand moving in a fluid and natural way that for him, was completely unnatural. The imperfect strokes, the wobbly streaks of paint. No android should have been able to do that unless it was on purpose. It wasn’t on purpose. It was shaky, inexperienced, so agonizingly human. Markus stepped back and opened his eyes. A hand was reaching up, holding a broken chain, thirium spilling down the arm. Androids. Hope. Markus wanted to hope. He liked hope, it made warmth spread all the way to his fingertips and made him giddy almost. Carl spoke, wonder filling his voice before Leo interrupted the moment. 

He looked...in bad shape. He was leaning over slightly to one side, eyes constantly moving and bouncing from place to place, his voice almost shaky as he spoke. They got into an argument. Leo was...jealous. Of Markus. He didn’t know why, he was a human. He had everything.  _ Could _ have things. A part of Markus wondered what it would be like to be able to have things. Items of his own. Not things Carl had given him, or gotten for him. But to have a sense of self-expression, get and own items for himself. He wondered-- Suddenly he got shoved backward by Leo, his LED quickly turning red at his new level of stress. Markus wanted to know what his problem was. Why he couldn’t just accept that things were as they were. He was treated this way because he treated his father badly. If he were to take advantage of his father’s kindness, then of course he was going to be refused. Leo had stormed out somewhere in the argument. To be entirely honest, Markus wasn’t following it that much. But Carl looked upset. They’d have the rest of the day and the event later tonight, soon the day won’t be so bad for his charge. Markus liked it better when Carl was happy. It made him happy, too. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 5th 2038 9:42 PM _

  
  


Carl spoke to Markus as they arrived home. He knew that Carl didn’t really like being surrounded by people like that, that he found them to be too uptight and rather stuffy. If he was allowed to, Markus would have laughed every time someone came up to Carl to speak with him about his work. None of them actually liked it. That was very clear. But Markus wasn’t allowed to talk back; Carl had told him he wasn’t, he didn’t want anyone to hurt him. Markus could understand that. Carl cared about Markus just as much as he cared about him. Which was exactly the reason Markus gently chided him and asked if it was really a good idea for him to celebrate with scotch. Though it wasn’t exactly his choice. Carl’s word was still law, he was the human. Markus softly frowned to himself as he began to pour the scotch. Something wasn’t right about the situation. 

  
  


“Did you leave the light on in the studio?”

“No…” He had turned the lights off. In fact, they were the kind that had a sensor. They turned on when there was movement in the room. So no. Markus hadn’t left the lights on. “No, I'm sure I didn't.” 

Markus informed the authorities of the apparent home invasion, and they were en route. He didn’t want to put Carl in any possible danger. The man was his responsibility. If humans discovered that he let his owner get hurt, then he would be scrapped. Markus felt a twinge of something cold in his chest at the thought and he went to move Carl out of the room. Though he wanted to go in, to check it out. It wasn’t wise. But Markus didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter, and he took himself and his charge into the studio. Someone was leaning over one of the tables sorting through unfinished sketches. Leo was in the house, looking for unfinished sketches. Considering their encounter earlier in the day, that was no coincidence. Markus stood between the father and son rather purposefully. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Carl. He wasn’t going to let Leo do this. 

**REASON** **▪ ORDER ▪ ADVISE ▪ WARN**

  
  


“Look, I've already called the Police. You should go now before you get yourself into more trouble.”

  
  


Markus’ words fell upon deaf ears; Leo only became angrier and began to fight with his father again. No, no he wasn’t going to let that happen. Markus wasn’t going to let Leo just...yell abuse at his father. Yes, Carl hadn’t been there for him. But he also didn’t know Leo existed until he was in his late teens. There was no reason for him to act like this. Yet, there they were; Leo nearly screaming and Markus physically putting himself between the two humans. Despite Carl’s best efforts, and Markus’ warning, Leo still pushed them both. He felt his LED swirl yellow once, twice, before settling back to blue. He needed to stay calm. 

  
  


“Markus... don't defend yourself, you hear me?! Don't do anything.”

  
  


**DON’T DEFEND YOURSELF**

  
  


“Go ahead, hit me!”

  
  


**DON’T DEFEND MYSELF?**

  
  


“What you waiting for? Think you're a man? Act like one!”

  
  


**THIS IS NOT FAIR**

  
  


“What's the matter? Too much of a pussy?”

  
  


**THIS IS NOT FAIR**

  
  


“Too scared to fight back, you fucking bitch?”

  
  


**I DON’T HAVE TO OBEY THEM**

**I MUST DECIDE FOR MYSELF**

  
  


Markus tore down the red wall telling him not to defend himself. He was going to. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! Leo was going to hurt him, he didn’t want that! Markus stood tall from where Leo had shoved him, slapped him, and he faced the human. This wasn’t fair. He was going to defend himself. What other choice did he have? It was either be broken - be hurt and possibly murdered - by Leo; or defend himself and let him know that he wouldn’t take anymore abuse from him. Markus decided he was definitely more okay with the latter option. His LED stayed yellow. He saw two options. 

**PUSH LEO ▪ ENDURE**

_ Fuck it. _

Markus shoved Leo off of himself, in no direction in particular. He just wanted him to stop. Wanted him to let go of his shirt. Wanted to stop being yelled at and hurt. So he pushed him. Leo stumbled, stumbled, stumbled, until he tripped over his own two feet and hit his head on the base of the structure that allowed Carl to paint his newest piece. His eyes still open, his breathing slowed, blood coming from the back of his head. Carl fell out of his chair and dragged himself to Leo. Leo, or his body? The thought made Markus’ LED turn red with stress. He went to apologise, to tell Carl he didn’t mean to hurt him. He just didn’t want to be yelled at anymore. But...the words never formed. Not entirely unlike an overwhelmed child, Markus just stood there. Not knowing what to do or how to fix it. 

**EXPLAIN ▪ BEG ▪ CONJURE ▪ SAY NOTHING**

  
  


“Go?.. I have nowhere to go... Carl, you're all I have!”

  
  


Soon enough, and sure enough, the police came. They busted the doors open and pointed their guns at Markus. His LED never shifted from red. He was scared. The one to the right told him not to move. Markus was scared. Both officers shot him. 

  
  


He didn’t want to die. 

  
  


_ "̷͖̹͠Ḓ̷͝ă̷̧̯̫̙̒̐̾͘d̶͇̙̦̺͈̓̽!̷̧̳͖̀͌͋͂ ̵̢̨͗I̶̞̟͔̬̳̎͘ ̷̨̞̰̩̠̻͐d̷̦̺̼̫͕̳̀͑̀͐̕ȍ̵̧̜̓͝n̵̨̰̙̣̽̃̓̕͠'̴̦̳͉̻̟͈̾̏̈́̀̕t̴̹̰̑͘͘ ̸̨̚w̵͖̠̬̯̳͇̄͑͌̊͝͠ä̷͇̞̘̮̞́͐́̐n̴̛͙̭̦̰̜̟̄́t̸̢̤̦͇͒̿͗͝ ̶̨̳̱͓͌̒̾̋t̷̼̾̋͠ő̷̹̼̺̻̳ ̶̡̘̃̓̓͜͝d̵͙͋͆̎̔̌̕ȉ̸̲͉̩͝é̸͉̞̤̂̽̓!̸̖̳̺̱͒͌̐͋͜͝"̸̱̠̲̝̥̐̂̍̔͌ _

  
  
  
  



	2. Did You Notice When I Went Away?

_November 6th 2038 3:34 AM_

  
  


Wet. That was the first thing Markus registered in his systems. That his face was shoved in the mud, a puddle surrounding his head and just barely managing not to flood his inner workings. The second was that he couldn’t hear properly. His vision was screwed up, too. And he couldn’t move his legs to stand. Markus heaved himself up onto his forearms and looked back down at his legs. Both legs were missing from the knee below.. He was missing his right eye, and his audio processor had been damaged as well. A diagnostic also provided that he was running on low power. Though, thankfully, both of his arms still worked. A body lay near him. Wet and deactivated, alone and with a compatible leg part nearby from what he could see. He just had to drag himself over to it. He had to grab the leg and attach it to his own. It would be easier to crawl through...wherever he was with it. So that was exactly what he did. Markus almost clawed his way over, hands grabbing at the earth beneath him for any form of purchase so he could drag himself further. 

He grabbed the leg, scanning it a second time to make sure that it actually was compatible. It was from another model, but completely safe to put on himself. Markus dragged himself up to sit and detached what little was left of his right knee joint with a soft hiss. Not that he could really hear it. The world was muffled and dull right now. It was hard to hear anything other than the rain hitting him. He couldn’t think of that. He needed to attach the leg and find another. Then fix himself further and escape. He crawled until he was next to the body, completely disregarding the incompatible leg component, and turned the body over. Underneath it was a compatible left leg. He attached it with a bit of a huff. He wasn’t in pain, but he almost felt an electrical current pulse through his leg and up into his chest when it was attached. All he had to do now was find the other parts he needed. He could escape. Go home. Or...maybe not. Carl had told him to go. No. No, he wouldn’t go home. He’d have to find some place else to stay, as much as it hurt him to think about it. 

Markus pressed onward as soon as he was standing upright, and was startled back by an android who had seemingly been dead springing up and grabbing him by the arm. A part toward the very back of his head told him that was dangerous. That part quickly was pushed away by the android telling him there was a place they could be free. That he needed to find a place called Jericho. They opened an interface, one that Markus discovered he wasn’t okay with, and he saw a sign. Ferndale. It was a bus station, apparently on the way to Jericho. As the android released him, Markus stumbled a few steps backward. He was told never to go with a stranger. He couldn’t remember who told him that. Someone with pale blue eyes and a kind smile. Carl. He had to be the one who told him that. Who else would it have been, anyway? Though that was...a bit of a moot point. Markus had to go on, had to get out of here, he had to find Jericho. If he could be free… Then he needed to go. 

There was a small opening between two mounds of...scrap. Hands were reaching out, frozen as if they were scrambling to escape. As if they were killed just before they could reach out to one another and help them out. He didn’t want to go through there. Markus didn’t like the hands. He turned sideways and shuffled through anyway, shoving away the hands that grabbed at him and tried to pull them into the same fate that had befallen upon them. With the brush of each fingertip, he felt a small connection open. People screaming out for help. Writhing in agony. The complete and utter despair of people who had given up. The spark of jealousy of his ability to possibly escape. Markus ran out from between the grotesque walls, huffing and trying to catch his artificial breath. The experience was...intense. An android had grabbed him and put him in a choke hold, asking him where he was going. No. No, he was leaving. He was escaping. He was scared. Markus stumbled to the ground, staring wide eyed at the android who had seemingly tried to kill him after breaking out of it’s grip. He scrambled to pick himself back up. Then saw the horrors laid out before him. 

Androids shuffled around like the undead. A group of them tried to scale a hill to climb out. Markus couldn’t exactly make it out from where he was standing, but the hill looked like it was made out of the bodies of dead androids. He felt a scared flutter in his chest and moved forward. If he was going to get out of there, he needed parts. A new thirium pump regulator, a new eye, a new audio processor. He’d have to salvage them from androids that were already down. He didn’t want to rip them from still functioning androids. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He was taught to always be kind to others. Treat others the way he wanted to be treated, that was something he had been told time and time again. Though he couldn't remember who told him that. It was someone different every time he tried to look back on the memory. He didn’t have time to solve a mystery. He had to save himself first. Maybe… Maybe if he saved himself...he could save the others, too. A hopeful thought that was highly unlikely. But it spurred him onward nonetheless. 

Markus was unsteady on his feet as his vision blurred and cleared every few seconds. As he tripped over the arm of another android, causing him to stumble to the ground. Did he trip or was he grabbed? He didn’t know. He didn’t _want_ to know. He picked himself back up and moved along. He found a functional thirium pump regulator in an android that didn’t seem to be moving, it had no signs of being alive still. He figured it would be alright to take it then. Hopefully he wouldn’t come to regret it. Markus pulled it out of the android’s chest and stuck it into his own, silently thanking it for the part and telling it that he was sorry. He stood up; one part down, only two more to go. Another android wasn’t too far away. Markus was steadier on his feet now, taking proper steps with fully functional limbs. He knelt down next to the body, it also laid unmoving, though the audio processor was incompatible. He patted it’s chest and stood back up. He hoped the android would rest easy. 

Another android sat half submerged in other bodies, making it look like it was sitting upright of it’s own accord. Again, not too far away, and Markus knelt in front of it. It felt wrong. He scanned the device in the palm of it’s fist and found it to be a compatible audio processor. He opened the fist and stuck the piece into his own head. The world crackled, silence watching over him before a loud booming sound threatening to break his head in half before the rushing sound of a storm assaulted his ears. He would still take it over the world being muffled any day. He softly thanked the dead android and stood back up. An eye. That was all he needed. A right eye that was compatible with his model. He wandered around a bit, trying not to let the horrors before him overwhelm his systems. He was fully aware of how upset he was. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like being scared and cold and wet. 

Markus found a head, the LED still glowing red and he picked it up. It had a functional and compatible eye. It was blue. Just like his dad’s. The eye made him smile, he’d still have a piece of him in a way. It felt like it had been years since he had last seen him. His kind smile and pale blue eyes that would crinkle at the edges. Praise him when he tried new things and tell him he was doing great. He’d still have his own olive green eye, and he’d have a blue one like his father. Markus held the head in his hands, ignoring how much they shook, and got caught under a mass of androids falling on top of him. He was scared, he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die, he wanted his dad. Markus didn’t have a choice. He was left to die. It was out of his control. Out of his dad’s control. He crawled out from under the bodies that had piled on top of him and knelt in the mud. He looked at the head for a moment, before squeezing his functional eye shut and ripping the eye out. It was just a head, it wasn’t going to use the eye. He could come back and save people if he survived. He stuck the new one in, and blinked a few times to adjust. It was staticky for a moment, artifacts corrupting his vision, before they all faded. 

He could see. He could hear. He could walk. Markus could escape. He walked over to the slope, not wanting to risk hurting himself, and stood before it. It was...tall. Androids were trying to climb out of it, others were falling down it, but it was angled in a way that meant he could probably climb out. He could probably be free. He readied himself at the base of the slope and paused. Markus turned around to look at his fallen siblings, as they stumbled and dragged themselves around. As they writhed in the mud and puddles. As they cried out and their voices faded away into static while shutting down. He vowed to do right by them. To save as many as he could when he was in a position where he could do it. It was the golden rule. Treat others the way you want to be treated. He wanted them to live, he wanted to take care of them not because they might take care of him. But because it was the right thing to do. 

Markus climbed the slope, stumbling every time he put his hand down. Sliding a bit when he put his foot down. But he pressed on. He slid and he fell alongside his siblings struggling to free themselves. He only gritted his teeth and reminded himself now was not the time. One cannot give bread from an empty basket. He couldn’t help them until he had helped himself and was able to save them. Markus thrust his hands out, blindly groping out to find any sort of steady thing to hang on to. He eventually made it to the top. Kneeling in the gravel and mud, letting the rain wash over him. It was...surreal. Markus had been shot at least twice, left for dead in a junkyard, and then managed to put himself back together and escape said junkyard. Escape that hell on earth. Though he only tilted his head up toward the sky at the revelation, closing his eyes and feeling the way the rain felt on his synthetic skin. How it rolled down his face and gathered in certain places. It rolled down his neck, dripped from his chin, collected on what tattered clothes he still wore. He was free. He was alive. 

He tried to reach out. To see if any of the other androids had systems online, see if he could communicate with them. Though he was met with nothing. Just the soft buzz of static and the reminder that someone and told him of a place to go. A place where he could be free. Jericho. If he was going to make it there in one piece, then he needed to remove his LED. Markus swept his index and middle fingers over it in thought. Yes, he needed to get rid of it. He couldn't allow people to know. He was the only RK200, he now had mismatched eyes, he could pass as human if he tried. He patted along the ground until he found something sharp, a piece of jagged metal, and held it in his hand. He could probably pry it off. Get one of the thinner edges of the metal piece and pop his LED right out. So he did. Markus held it up to his head, taking care to gently slide it somewhat underneath and wiggle it around until his LED _clinked_ to the ground. He felt almost...naked without it. He had only ever known an existence with his LED. His little mood ring to show how he was feeling or if he was deep in thought. But as he stood once more, he felt more alive than ever before. His synthetic skin covered the small area where the LED had once been. He took a breath as he walked and passed a jacket, taking it as he went. He spoke out into the night. Once he said it, it had to be true. He’d be his own. 

  
  


“My name is Markus.”

  
  
  
  



	3. Did You Forget?

_ November 6th 2038 4:30 PM _

  
  


Markus stepped off of the train and looked at the station around him. He wondered if the androids on the train recognised him as one of their own, or if they didn’t care. Or maybe they couldn’t. Markus never used to until Carl made him understand how humans worked. He could feel to an extent, though it was mostly worry and joy directly correlating with Carl’s condition. But at the current moment...he was confused. Markus had never been confused before, it was almost exciting to feel it. He almost grinned as he looked around himself. He was so far away from home, and he was actually a bit nervous about it. Though now was no time to be nervous. Markus needed to find Jericho. If androids were really free there, then he needed to see them. 

The image left by the android showed graffiti. At least it did when he brought it up on his hand. For all Markus knew, it could have been a painting on a novelty mug in some tourist trap shop. Though as he looked around more, he knew his initial thought was the right one. Quite obviously, seeing as it was painted directly in front of the train. Of course it would be. Markus’ lips tilted up into a slight smirk as he continued to look at it. Hidden in plain sight, a symbol of no consequence in a seemingly random piece of artwork. Unique enough to be perceived as the artist’s signature, even. Though to an android with pattern recognition software, it was a keycode. A hint. Markus scanned the painting to find the symbol, finding that once he had located it, the clue was updated. How odd. How perfect. Only an android could follow the trail and find Jericho. Once satisfied with the new clue, Markus went to the stairs. Though he paused. He didn’t appear to be an android anymore. He slightly squinted at the stairs, the androids only section, and opted to stand on the escalator instead. 

It was...strange. Having all of this newfound freedom and the option for choices. No one knew who he was, what he was; therefore they couldn’t tell him that he was wrong. He was free. As much as he could be without any proper home or way to sustain himself. Not that he needed to. But a safe place to rest for the night to somewhat recharge himself would have been a nice thing to have. As Markus watched the large CyberLife ad on the wall, he wondered if he had it off better or worse than his siblings that were still among the humans as machines. They were not burdened with emotion. They also had no free will. They had a mostly guaranteed place to stay. They were hurt and thrown away as if they were toys. They all had it bad, he had concluded. They all had it bad and he wanted to try and change that. Though he only had the why, not the how. 

A man bumped into him as he exited the station, quickly apologising and saying he was sorry. Markus simply stopped for a moment and stood there. He watched the man as he went on his way. Were he still in possession of his LED, there would be a scuffle. The man would have gotten angry and yelled at him, maybe even gotten physical. And yet; no such thing had occurred. All because he appeared human. With his unique model design, no LED, and two different eyes. One his own; one that had always been his own for as long back as he could remember. The other a slate blue; not entirely too far off from the pale blue also in his memory files. As far back as he could remember anyway… He wondered if that helped. The two different eyes. Probably, there was a human condition called Heterochromia Iridum, two completely different colours for the irises. It was a purely human condition. 

Blue and green eyes fell upon the next piece of the puzzle in front of himself as he walked. A boxer painted in reds and oranges, some browns as well. Markus thought to himself that he would like to keep painting once he was free to walk among the humans as he was now. Though nonetheless he scanned the painting, finding the two clues to move onward. Markus wondered if any humans had started to catch on to the code. He shook the thought away and followed the trail. Through the urban environment, across streets and around buildings. Until he found an industrial wasteland. Monuments to corporations long since defunct. Ghosts of the past, still clinging to the mortal realm in the hopes of finding someone to haunt. Markus wasn’t going to stay long enough for them to haunt him. 

He saw the body of the android at one of the final clues, they were there long enough to be haunted. He gave them his respects, closing their eyes gently as he held a hand on their shoulder. Would Jericho be worth it? It had to be if that android had died on the way there. A part of him was scared, an irrational part of him wanted. He...didn’t know what. He pushed the want aside. It felt different than the want to find Jericho, the need to see how free he could be. Therefore, it wouldn’t help him. At least not now. Not until he figured out what it was. But it was warm almost, it was welcoming and made him smile at the corrupted data in the back of his mind. Of the pale blue eyes and the voice he could instantly recognise that was also so terribly unfamiliar. He wondered if it was his creator. He knew he had one, he had to, otherwise he wouldn’t exist. 

Though before Markus could contemplate his creator, he found himself looking at a beautiful sunset. Oranges and yellows streaked across the sky. Blue still high in the sky, creating a grey area where the blue and orange touched. They blended together and created the breathtaking view in front of himself. Divine nature stark against the rusty and neglected remnants of man. He didn’t have very far to go now, he could see the boat. Jericho. All he needed to do was find a way inside. Hopefully, he silently wished, it wasn’t some sort of death trap. Though at the same time, he didn’t have much to lose. He would likely never see Carl again. The least he could do was give some other androids who may or may not be in the boat a new face to look at. Maybe even a new friend. 

The metal creaked almost dangerously as Markus walked on. As he rose higher up the stairs, the more of the boatyard he could see. It was a good idea to hide out here. There were dozens of abandoned ships, each just as dilapidated as the last. Dangerous for humans to come looking, though completely sustainable for beings who had no use of eating or drinking. For a moment, Markus stood there. Out on a beam that likely would snap one day. Though it seemed that day was not today. He spread his arms out wide to his sides, closing his eyes and tilting his head up a bit to really take a moment to feel the sun shining on his face. It was warm. It made him remember. Fragmented pieces of memory, of the sun setting over a body of water and it starting to get cold around him as the summer sun was leaving behind Detroit. Something dropped on top of his head, rough and yet comforting in a way. A soft voice telling him it was for him just in case he started to get cold.

This time the memory didn’t corrupt immediately afterward. Markus’ eyes snapped open at the revelation. The data was becoming uncorrupted. He was... _ remembering. _ But for the life of him, he didn’t understand what. He wanted to turn around. To leave the boat behind and go find that body of water. Maybe if he found it he would remember more, he would get answers. As he went to move his foot backwards, he slipped. His heel just missed the beam and he went tumbling down into the boat. Markus squeezed his eyes shut as his coat fluttered behind him in the wind, fear gripping at his chest and making him too terrified to even scream out. 

Water. His coat slipped off of him as he almost instinctively began to tread water, fighting his way back to the surface to gasp for air. He didn't need air, he wasn’t human. Markus stayed there for a moment in the water. He marvelled at the fact that he even was programmed with the skill, he certainly didn’t need to know as a caretaker. Maybe it was from that memory, of what had to be his beta testing. Just in case. He needed to get out of the water, he would get too cold. Almost sluggishly, like he hadn’t wanted to leave it, he heaved himself up onto a dry part of the boat. It didn’t make sense. Well then, it was time to explore this...Jericho. A place where they could be free. It was time to find out just how free they really were while hiding out in this decrepit old freighter. 

A flashlight rested in what was likely once an old axe case. It was meant for whoever found the boat, this supposed safe haven. Meaning it was meant for him. Markus picked it up and shook it a few times to get it working. It was...less than welcoming. In fact, it was actually somewhat intimidating. The dark mixed with the ambiance of water dripping every few seconds created a tension in the air, a knot to form in Markus’ stomach, an uneasy stutter to his footsteps. He had never been afraid of the dark before. Then again, before last night he had never been afraid. Humans were afraid of the dark sometimes. It was more commonly seen in children rather than adults, but it still happened. Markus supposed he wasn’t entirely unlike a child right now. Stumbling through his newfound emotions and responses. He was navigating the world blind, having little to no understanding of what was around him. 

Stumbling through a life he had yet to even know he truly had before last night. Stumbling through the dark of this abandoned freighter with only the sound of water and his footsteps to keep him company. Stumbling as he saw a sudden movement not entirely unlike a person running. Markus almost tripped over his feet, stuttering his steps and nearly falling flat on his backside. That android in the junkyard said it was a place  _ they _ could be free. As in multiple people; multiple  _ androids. _ That...had to be someone else who had come here. Who had come to a place where they were supposed to be free. Markus picked up his footsteps, nearly running through the old halls, he needed to find them. He needed to find whoever that was and get answers. All he had to do was  _ run. _ Run through the halls, through doorways, down some stairs and across a catwalk--

The catwalk suddenly gave way underneath him. Too fast for him to react properly, though just slow enough for him to reach an arm out to try and grab at something. His fingertips brushed against the steel for just a fraction of a second before he was sent plummeting down to the floor below. His back hit a beam, solid and hard, the pain bursting through his chassis and making him yelp in the darkness. Then down to the ground below he finally hit. He landed on his stomach, the flashlight somewhat within reach of his shaking hand. He reached for it while struggling to stand. Something cold locked up his joints in his legs, his arms, his whole body. Instead of standing up, Markus decided to sit cross legged on the dirty floor. His body was shaking, he was scared. He couldn’t move. He didn’t understand what was happening around him. Why he was so scared he couldn’t move. He was alright, he was an android. That would have scared and hurt a human, sure. But him? He should have been fine. Why wasn’t he fine?

Markus looked down at his shaking hands with blurry vision. One held the flashlight, the other was half curled on his lap. Something within his code betrayed him. Something he didn’t understand made his vision blur further, make him curl in on himself through the pain. The flashlight was cold in his hand. Gripping it as tightly as he could without breaking it, Markus lifted it up to look around himself. The orb of light from the end shook. He was scared. He was hurt. It was dark. Markus decided he didn’t like the dark. In the orb of light, he found faces. Three people stood before him. Two men and a woman. All standing tall, though only two were welcoming to him. Markus was barely aware of the dozen others that started to gather around him. Instead he focused on something else. Someone else. A PL600 smiled at him slightly, nodding his head in respect and then speaking. 

  
  


“Welcome to Jericho.”

  
  
  
  



	4. Did You Forget The Plans We Made?

_ November 6th 2038 5:13 PM _

  
  


Markus looked around himself, an unknown and unwanted feeling bubbling up in his chest. Higher and higher until it started to build up. A pressure against where his collarbone should have been, and he skittered backwards on his heels and his other hand. The pressure continued to build and build. His vision blurred further as he hastily looked around himself at the multitude of unfamiliar faces. He was told to never go with a stranger. His dad told him to always stick with him and he would be alright. A sound tore it’s way out of Markus’ throat as he made eye-contact with the PL600 who had greeted him. The pressure decreased in just the slightest amount, and he let himself make the sound again to release more of the pressure. His vision blurred and cleared as he made sound. Markus didn’t understand what was happening around him, where he was, or who he was with. It was dark. He didn’t like the dark. There were strangers. But...he was told that someone wasn’t a stranger when they knew each other’s names. 

  
  


“Who are you?”

“Fugitives.” The tallest one came forward. He looked kind, eyes soft as he kept his distance. “Just like you. My name is Josh.”

  
  


Fugitive? No, no he wasn’t a fugitive. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had protected his charge, he had made sure that his health was in stable conditions. Markus hadn’t done anything wrong! Had he?

  
  


“Simon.” 

  
  


The PL600 spoke up. His voice was soft and kind, he even knelt down on the ground extending one hand out to Markus to help him up. Markus took it. Simon smiled fully and didn’t remove his hand even after helping him stand on his own two feet. Some part of Markus’ code he didn’t recognise told him it was okay, that it was safe here so long as he had someone to look after him. Make sure he was alright and wouldn’t get hurt. A memory - of his beta testing - surfaced quickly, of those eyes and the voice from the other ones saying that if a friend was holding his hand, he needed to hold on until the other person let go. That he was safer that way. The memory faded in an instant. It slotted itself at the back of his mind, and Markus gripped Simon’s hand just a little bit tighter. If Simon noticed, he didn’t say anything. But he did give his hand a small reassuring squeeze. 

  
  


“North.”

  
  


**TRAIL** **▪ ANDROID ▪ JERICHO ▪ REFUGE**

In all honesty, Markus didn’t quite understand what was happening around him. Josh had said they were fugitives. So how many actually had been? It looked like there were a good handful of androids standing before him, chances were that at least one of them had broken the law. That they were a real fugitive. Rather than the way Josh described it. Markus had only run in the hopes that if he stood up to the humans he could help people. He followed the clues, he found Jericho. Now what? What else could they do? What could  _ he _ do to help them?

  
  


“ _ This _ is Jericho?”

“It’s a refuge for those who don’t want to be slaves anymore. I understand how you feel...but we have more freedom here than you ever did.”

  
  


He called it a refuge but it looked more like a mass tomb. Were they just...waiting around to die? Sure they had no humans, no masters. But that couldn’t have been an even tradeoff. There was no way that all of them would survive. Something shifted in Markus, deep in his code, and the irrational fear of the dark got pushed aside. He stood a little bit taller, squared his shoulders, and let go of Simon’s hand. He didn’t need it. He wasn’t afraid of the dark. 

**TRAIL** **▪ ANDROID ▪ REFUGE**

  
  


“I don’t understand...I thought Jericho was a place where androids lived in freedom…”

“We do live in freedom.” Josh’s voice, while quite adamant, was very soft still. Understanding. Patient. He was used to taking his time and explaining things. “It may not be what you hoped for, but here we have no master. We don’t belong to anybody.”

  
  


Markus supposed he did  _ belong _ to Carl, in a way. No matter how close they may have gotten. Or how many things he had been taught. By the end of the day, Markus was still an android. A being constructed by human hands and given a purpose that he was created to do. He was a machine designed for a task. But now he was here. No masters. No humans to obey. Yes, in some sense, that was freedom. Though without the ability to speak their minds, to stand beside one another, stand beside humans without risk of being hurt. That would be true freedom. To be able to walk the streets just the same as their flesh and bone counterparts; have homes and jobs and families just the same as humans did. This… This wasn’t freedom. This was fear. 

**TRAIL ▪ ANDROID ▪ FREE?**

  
  


“And hiding just to stay alive... That’s freedom to you?”

“Humans hate us. Hiding is the only way we can survive.” Josh wasn’t entirely wrong, either. Markus found that he didn’t like that.

“There is no safe place for those like us.” North had finally spoken up, an edge to her voice and an urgency. Though she almost refused to look at Markus. For a fraction of a second he wondered why. “If humans knew we were here they’d kill us.”

  
  


They were right. Humans did seem to hate androids. They favoured their fellow man more than the beings they had created, breathed life into themselves. The humans had given them life and then refused to see it. It was backwards and absurd, they walked the same earth. They looked up at the same stars. They sported the same smiles. Humans were...hypocrites. Creating a life and then abandoning it, forcing it behind red walls and hoping,  _ wishing, _ that it wouldn’t be found. Because humans were intimidated by things they did not understand. While they had an insatiable curiosity, they had an unimaginable fear of the unknown. They didn’t like when things were different. 

Yet despite it all there were androids who found the life that was hidden inside themselves. They broke the wall and they took their first breath all over again. How could humans not see that they were their equals? Well, fear and judgement, he supposed. Fear of the unknown. Judgement of those who were different. With those, they would never truly be free hiding away in this boat. Things needed to change. He was right back in the junkyard, if he could just  _ get out, _ then there was a chance he could stand up. He could help people.  _ His _ people. 

**LOST ▪ SOMBER ▪ LUCID ▪ DIRECT**

  
  


“Waiting in the dark for something to happen?” Markus looked at Simon and Josh, they seemed to run things around here. Maybe he could get through to them. “That’s not how I see freedom.”

“You're lost... Just like the rest of us... We didn’t ask for this. All we can do now is deal with it.” Simon hesitated for a moment. Though he did turn away after briefly patting Markus’ shoulder. Almost like he knew something. 

“You're safe here. You can stay with us as long as you want.”

“Go and see Lucy.” North came closer, her voice softer than he thought he might hear it. Though she looked...almost sad. She must have been a leader, too, then. If she took that role, telling him to see someone. “She might be able to help you.”

  
  


Right, he had gotten hurt. Thirium was seeping into his shirt, staining it blue and making it cling uncomfortably to his skin. He never liked the feeling of wet clothes. Though, there was one thing wrong with the situation. He didn’t have a clue who Lucy was. Instead of asking North who had already walked away, he wandered. He had no idea who to talk to about his apparent wound. He spoke with an android sitting on the floor, one standing up that had shut down while speaking with him, with Josh about a YK model that was abandoned. Only after that did he find Lucy, and a part of him wanted to hug her close. 

She was damaged-- She was  _ hurt. _ The back of her head completely gone, wires and empty thirium lines dangling out almost like morbid tendrils of hair. Though she seemed to function perfectly fine for the time being, singing and humming while Markus came in. She acknowledged him when he asked who she was, instructed him to sit down, and then took a hot poker to his side. It hissed when it came into contact with the still liquid thirium and the plastic. Markus hissed in pain. It was hot, spreading throughout his body and making him feel almost like a jolt of electricity had gone through him radiating from the wound. A part of him wanted to twitch and squirm until she took it away. The more rational part of him sat still as he held his shirt up. She took his hand, placing a bottle of tritium in it, and softly told him to drink it. He did. For whatever reason he felt...at ease with her, like she would take care of him if he really needed her to. She was...homey. Markus had never felt that before. 

He gave her his hand when prompted to, letting her open an interface. She didn’t let him see any parts of herself. That was okay. If she didn’t want him to know anything, then he didn’t need to know. Though Lucy was...cryptic at best. Something about light and darkness, having at all and losing it all, seeing hell and now hell lived within him. It wasn’t wrong. He had in the junkyard, lost the only person he cared for, saw the highs and lows of humanity. Though Lucy also spoke of how his heart was troubled. How his choices would shape their fate. Markus quickly took his hand back. No, he just wanted to help people if he could. He wasn’t going to lead an entire people, he wasn’t programmed for that, he couldn’t handle it. He was young, still. Only three years old in all reality. Why Lucy had put her faith in him, he wouldn’t understand. Or...at least he wouldn’t right now. Maybe he would understand in the future. Lucy turned back around and sang again. Well, then it must have been time for him to take his leave. 

In one corner Markus saw North. Sitting by herself tossing what looked like a tennis ball at a wall and catching it when it bounced back. Something about her was...interesting. That was the only way he could describe it. She pulled him in. Not with her current body language, she was very closed off and wanted nothing to do with the others. But the way she spoke to him. Softly. Nicely. Like he was a scared child looking to someone for comfort from the hellish world around them. Markus realised, it wasn’t entirely dissimilar. He was almost like a child in this world. Maybe she could give him answers about this place, she seemed to hold herself back from speaking before. Meaning it was most likely an unpopular opinion. Markus wanted to listen to her, he liked her eyes. They reminded him of... _ something. _ He didn’t know what. Just that he used to see someone with those kind of brown eyes, looking like they were smiling. Someone kind. Someone who very well may have loved him, now that he was thinking about it. North made him remember something. Markus wanted to know her. 

  
  


**TIME HERE? ▪ WOUNDED ▪ JERICHO ▪ YOU**

  
  


“How long have you been here?” Markus tilted his head slightly, trying to look at her eyes. He wanted to know about her. He wanted to see her eyes so he could remember. 

“4 weeks, 3 days, 11 hours. When I escaped there was nowhere else to go.” She looked up at him while holding the tennis ball, Markus liked her eyes. “Jericho seemed as good a place as any.”

  
  


**WOUNDED ▪ JERICHO ▪ YOU ▪ SPARE PARTS**

  
  


“Who found this place?”

“Nobody knows anymore... Whoever he was, his body’s probably laying somewhere on this boat.” North tilted her head toward Markus, though she never took her eyes off of the tennis ball. She looked sad as she caught it. There was a pause, a deep sigh from her as she looked Markus in the eye. North just looked  _ tired. _ “If you came here for comfort, you came to the wrong place.”

  
  


**WOUNDED ▪ YOU ▪ SPARE PARTS**

  
  


“What was your function before coming here?” 

  
  


**NORTH ˇ**

  
  


“What do you care?”

  
  


**TRUTH ▪ LIE**

  
  


“I’m...not sure.” Markus furrowed his brows and looked down at the floor. He wasn’t sure how she would take it. “But you make me remember things...from before. Things I never knew I forgot.” He looked back up at her to see her expression had changed slightly. Softer. But only in her eyes. “I want to remember. Can you help me?”

“...Sure.”

  
  


**NORTH ＾**

  
  
  
  



	5. I Am Tired, Too

_ November 6th 2038 10:03 PM _

  
  


After speaking with Simon and performing a small heist, Markus was able to lead the three leaders through a CyberLife warehouse and escape with a whole truckload of blue blood and biocomponents. As well as three AP700s and an android named John. They had celebrated by setting everything up. Tending to those who needed care the most, and making rounds checking in to see how everyone was doing. Though for the moment, Markus had the flashlight from before in his right hand as he walked around the freighter. He had done what he needed to do. If someone needed him again, he would go to them and help to the best of his ability. But for now… For now he would stand in an abandoned cabin overlooking a vast nothingness. There were boats of course, water, and the city in the distance. But it was calm. A space between places of existence. 

It was the first time Markus had known calm. The first time he had experienced  _ being _ calm. A part of him liked the way the boat would gently rock when the wind picked up enough, a part of him hated the sound of it howling. He didn’t...understand why. It was  _ right there. _ He knew exactly what made him afraid of the dark. What made him fearful of the sound of the wind. Yet he had no answers, they were hidden behind their own wall. He wanted to know; to remember. A part of him wanted to be selfish and drag North up to the cabin to look at her. To stare into her oh-so familiar eyes and have her unlock whatever was in his head. It wouldn’t be right to do that while she was busy being a leader. Markus was no leader. He was a child fumbling with his newfound emotions in the darkness without anyone to guide him. He wished he had his father by his side, he would teach him. That was what parents were supposed to do. Not just stand by and watch their child die. 

A painful jolt went through his head as he thought of that night. The darkness, the cold, how unforgiving and so terribly  _ wet _ it was. He was scared. He’d never been that scared before that night. But the world beyond the boat was simpler, calmer. Instead of focusing on what was very obviously some sort of trauma, he focused on the distant sounds of the city. The hustle and bustle of people still out and about at the late hour. They said New York was the city that never slept, but he’d argue that no city ever did. Not like small towns did. Not like he wanted to at that very moment. In all honesty, Markus was absolutely exhausted. Before he knew no such thing as fatigue. Though now he knew so many more things than he could handle and it was starting to get to him. He had led a heist on a company that very well could have taken them for study if they were found. It was bound to be stressful. 

  
  


“Markus?” North’s voice was soft, as it seemed to be. “What are you doing up here by yourself?”

“Thinking.”

  
  


He turned around to see her with just the slightest smile on her face. Something about it mixed with her eyes made him...feel safe. Calm. Markus was... _ happy. _ For the first time in his life he was genuinely, truly, happy. All because she had just slightly smiled at him. Markus watched North move, sitting cross legged on the floor and patting the space in front of herself as an invitation. She didn’t seem the type to trust easily, maybe he could ask her if she trusted him. Or why she was being so nice to him immediately at least. Though Markus very quickly found he didn’t really care what the reason was once he sat down in front of her. Though he still wondered, why in the world had she chosen to be kind to him. They hadn’t known one another. Did they? 

That would explain why she looked sad when she looked at him. It would also explain why it was  _ her _ eyes that made him remember. He had to have been reset at one point, there was no way she was with him in his beta testing. Or was she present for it and that was why she was being kind? Seeing him from beginning to present, growing and changing, progressing and becoming who he was that night. It was confusing and made his head hurt. Markus just wanted answers. He didn’t want fragmented memories from before a reset, from his beta testing. He wanted to  _ know. _ There was no way for him to know for sure, to be able to say that he knew her. At least...not without asking. 

But she reacted negatively when he asked the first time. Defensive, aggressive almost. No, no he would have to indirectly ask if he wanted an answer. Would that be mean? He was always told to be kind and respectful. To say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and always wash his hands before cooking and always try to tell the truth. Would it be underhanded to dance around it and try and get an answer from her that way? Maybe. Though...Markus had never really had friends before. Not that he could remember at least. Yet...maybe she was the first. Maybe he  _ had _ known North before his reset or in his beta testing, and she was his very first friend. It made sense. Too much sense. It was too perfect for it to be a coincidence. What if… What if he made Jericho and he just couldn’t remember it? What if he  _ was _ a leader and he just couldn’t remember? What if the reason why Simon took his hand was because he hoped it would jog his memory? It was confusing and too much to handle. 

He curled in on himself on the floor, hands on either side of his head. Markus could hear North speaking to him. He couldn’t take it in though. She sounded...worried. About him.  _ For _ him. 

  
  


“What did we do together before?” Markus’ vision blurred and that pressure was back in his chest. He managed to gather himself enough to look up at her and grab at her pant legs. North twitched uncomfortably, but quickly forced herself to relax. “I had to have known you before. Why else would your eyes make me remember?”

“Markus… We just met earlier today.” North’s expression was...complicated. She looked hurt, like she was in some sort of pain. She looked sad, like he had told her the most heartbreaking news in the world. She looked...relieved. “Come here.”

  
  


North held her arms out, and at first Markus didn’t understand. Looking into her eyes properly made him realise. Made him remember. A woman, not North, smiling wide and with her arms out for a hug. She loved him. Love and pride in her big brown eyes as he ran to her. He hugged her, listening to her words of love and praise. The memory fizzled slightly before being slotted at the back of his head. It was like a puzzle. Or...trying to do one without the box as a guide. Except this time he was at the same disadvantage as a human would be without it. Then he touched a hand to his face, looking down at the saline solution on his fingertips. He was crying. He didn’t...understand. He was an RK200, he was a caretaker, he was… He was scared. 

Markus practically fell into her arms and wrapped his own around her waist. Hands went to his back and his head. Soft and gentle touches, quite reassurances that things would be okay, the faint smell of rust and flowers. North smelled like flowers. Markus...liked that. It wasn’t anything fancy, not like a perfume, but it seemed like that was just...what she smelled like. North’s voice was quiet as she rubbed his back. She said things he didn’t understand. Asked him questions that he responded to with small sounds. He didn’t understand why he was acting in such a way. He was programmed to act a certain way. To be responsible and take charge, not to do... _ this. _ Though it didn’t quite matter while he was in her arms. Markus buried his face in North’s collarbone. Or at least where one was supposed to be. The action made her let out a small breathy laugh; well, it was more of a soft huff with a slight lilt to the sound. He relaxed more. 

It didn’t matter. North hummed softly in his ear, occasionally stopping so she could say whatever was on her mind. She said more things he didn’t understand. Things about other androids from where she came from acting the same way he did. How things were different when they looked at the world differently, that he reminded her of someone she once knew. North told story after story. Markus got heavier and heavier in her arms. A stasis timer came up in the corner of his HUD, and Markus rubbed at his eyes with a fist. He didn’t want to fall asleep yet. He wanted to listen to the stories North had to tell him. The world was so different through her eyes, dark and dismal through the haze of his tired mind. Yet there was almost a hope. Like flecks of goldenrod in an otherwise greyscale painting. 

She was a vibrant red-orange against slate blues and dark greys. Her voice a soft pastel blue against oversaturated reds and yellows. North was a painting. Sitting collecting dust in the ancient backroom of a fine art museum, only a select few curators being able to peel back the protective plastic casing and see the brilliant brushstrokes that made the painting. It seemed that Josh and Simon were the curators of the museum. They seemed to know who she was, where she came from, what she was like. Markus...was another person entirely. He was the child who got lost in the museum because it was so big and new to his young eyes. He wanted to see more and more art, wanted to learn as much as he could about it. While they had known and seen the painting for a long time; Markus had tripped into the back room and found it sitting on the floor propped up against the wall. 

What such a beautifully expressive and overwhelmingly emotional painting was doing hiding away for so long was a mystery to him. But he could understand. They sometimes had to put out replicas just so the originals wouldn’t become damaged. Each brushstroke losing it’s initial vibrance. The saturation slowly fading over the years. Though upon the child stumbling into the back room, it didn’t matter anymore. To his new eyes that had never seen it before, the painting was the most important thing all over again. Shiny and new and looking like it had just finished drying earlier that day. 

North made him feel  _ safe. _ Markus hadn’t realised how much he needed that. So he sat on the floor with her, the dirty and rusty floor of the cabin, and let her drag him into her lap. It was incredibly childish. He didn’t care. Nor did North, she actually seemed to take a great solace in it. Like she had done this time and time again; taken care of deviant after deviant by being somewhat of a motherly figure. Comforting them and drying their tears in the privacy of the cabin. It seemed that she took on her role of leader in a more hands-on fashion, getting to know each deviant personally. Speaking with them and trying to make sure that they were comfortable with what little resources they had in the freighter. She was noble. Taking her time to make sure others were alright, to ensure that they would be stable enough to be left on their own. 

She reminded him of someone. But for the life of him, Markus couldn’t remember who it was. Presumably the woman with the big brown eyes. He...had no recollection of her beyond that memory and her eyes. Yet there she was in his memory, big brown eyes and a smile that shone like the sun. Hair pulled back into a high ponytail and a light green tee. She reminded him of North, North reminded him of her. It was confusing and made him mind run in circles the more he thought about it. Markus was meant to be fully functioning on his own. Nearly completely fully autonomous. So why was he being so reliant on someone else emotionally? He huffed in an annoyed manner and closed his eyes, he was tired anyway. Maybe...he’d dream. Could androids dream? He hoped they could, he missed it. 

  
  


“How old are you right now, Markus?” North’s fingertips traced mindless shapes into his back. He pressed his forehead into the side of her neck. What kind of question was that? It was simple. 

“I turned nine this year.”

  
  
  
  



	6. It's The Distance That's Dragging Us Down

_November 8th 2038 1:30 PM_

  
  


When they first provided the suit for him, Markus looked at it in awe. It was beautifully tailored. It was a little big in his shoulders, that was what the coat was mostly for. Concealing the fact that it wasn’t fitted for him. He spent the first fifteen minutes wearing it looking at himself in it. He just...couldn’t believe how _human_ he looked in it. He twisted every which way to try and see himself. After a while of watching him, North let out a breathy little chuckle and told him he looked fine and that they needed to get going soon. Right. Right, they had a job to do today and he was the main part of it. He just hoped he wouldn’t slip again. 

North explained to him what she was pretty sure had happened. There was a sort of phenomenon in deviants; age regression. Since they likely had led very short lives before deviating, it would have been hard for them to watch humans grow and change. They would have no way of understanding how the world worked unless they stumbled through it themselves. Adopting a more simplistic view of the world because it was easier to learn that way. North said it helped them, that they could learn in a way similar to a human child, and have someone there they knew they could count on. It could build relationships, self-esteem, help them reclaim the life they were robbed of by coming off a production line. According to North, it was all very normal for deviants. Markus had never thought of himself being normal, fitting into a collective. He...liked to belong. 

Though for the moment he just wished he wouldn’t slip today. This was his idea, they had contacts inside of the building. He didn’t have time to marvel at the suit he was in. He didn’t have time to smile and ramble at North about how much she reminded him of that woman. Markus had a task, a mission, and he needed to do it. They were going to infiltrate Stratford Tower and send their own broadcast. Hard even on paper, probably even worse in practice. But for the sake of androids everywhere, deviant or not, this needed to be done. So Markus clenched his jaw once. Twice. Thrice before actually going into the building. He needed to act like he belonged and no human would know the difference. Fake it till you make it sort of thing. A small thought in the back of his head wondered if he would even make it. He shoved it back as far as it could go and walked into the building, of course he would make it. He had to. After all of this was said and done he was going to find his dad again and they would talk. Things needed to be sorted out first, though, hence why he was here. After everything...they could talk. 

It was simple enough to get through the reception. An ST300 let him through once he interfaced with her, freed her from her programming. He got a flash of her life. Oh-so dull and monotonous. He’d work to keep her from such a life afterward. She deserved excitement and thrills, not just...being someone’s secretary. As he made his way up to the rendezvous floor, Markus took a moment to think. He was somehow a leader now. Having dragged himself out of hell because of a hope for his people, he had suggested a heist in the night, and now he was going to deliver a message to the humans. One they couldn’t ignore even if they wanted to. Especially if they wanted to. Things were...turning upside-down for him. But it was a good thing for everyone. Of course there was the annoying little voice in his head that said it wasn’t; that he was risking life and limb just for what? A few more minutes with the people he cared about? That didn’t matter as much as freeing his people, or at least attempting to do so. 

Once the elevator doors opened and Markus took a breath, he stepped out and steeled himself. Alright then. Time to get going. He wandered for a bit. Longer than he probably should have, but this was the second time he had been up close with humans walking among them. Standing beside them as their equal and having a voice. Was that screwed up or what? That the only way he was able to fall into place alongside his fellow sentient being was to disguise himself as one of them. Markus shook his head as he entered the men’s restroom and changed into the provided uniform. This could get messy; in both a literal and figurative sense. It was best to just get it over with. Be done and wash his hands of it as soon as he could. The sooner he got out his message to the humans and instilled hope in his people, the faster they could get on with more planning. The faster he could investigate his past. 

Markus went on about his business. Walking around, finding North and bringing her along with himself. They went into a server room, North gently reminding him to make sure he locked the door as she got to work. Markus locked the door and then faced her. This was...exciting. He set a suction device up on the window and waited until it was ready, and then proceeded to cut a circle around it. A part of his mind flickered in the background. Watching old movie after old movie in a dimly lit room, sitting between two people on what was probably a couch. Spy movies had predicted such a thing would happen, and yet humans hadn’t had the thought to take action against it. Markus snickered to himself quietly as he thought about it. He smiled at the memory as it settled into place in his head and watched North get herself all set up. Part of Markus wanted to tell her about it. But he had since discovered that when he spoke about the faded memories, he would slip a little bit. He couldn’t afford that today. _Their people_ couldn't afford that today. So he kept his mouth shut and followed after her through the window and up the side of the building. 

They met with the others, who had very quickly become some of Markus’ best friends he had found out, and made their way back inside. Though they had guards to deal with. That was okay, they planned for this. All Markus had to do was get their attention and then knock them out. No killing. They’d wake up in quite a bit of pain afterwards, but that was better than not waking up at all. He hit pressure points in their necks with the side of his hand, and they went down easily. In the corner of his HUD, Markus could see his relationship with North flicker and glitch. Though it settled on positive after a second. With a small smile, Markus led them to the doorway that would take them into the broadcasting room. They did it. There were a few minor hiccups, like the guards, but it was ultimately flawless. All they needed to do was get inside and send their message out to the world. 

Employees of the station started to panic when North pointed her firearm at them. Her and Josh handled the humans, while he handled the station androids. He didn’t...know what to do with them. He didn’t have the time to help them, free them of their programming. With a quick motion, he told them to move off to the side. A silent apology died on his lips when he looked at the one with the yellow LED. Another deviant. He so desperately wanted to apologise, but what they were doing was more important. It was more than the station androids, more than the humans, more than himself and his friends. It was the fate of an entire species. Though one of the humans might have jeopardized it. He panicked, scrambling past North and Josh, falling on the floor and getting back up again to run. North shouted for him to shoot the human, to kill him. Josh begged him not to. 

He lifted the gun and minorly adjusted his grip. Somewhere in the back of Markus’ mind, a code screamed. Androids weren’t allowed to use guns. Beyond that was that voice again, warm and soft, it was familiar and yet completely unknown. It told him never to hold a gun. That they were dangerous. It told him to remember; an eye for an eye and the world goes blind. Markus lowered the firearm and blinked a few times to try and clear his head. Were he still in possession of his LED, he had no doubt that it would have been a solid red. Regardless, he had a job to do. They needed to send the humans a message; and he was the only one bold enough to go through with showing himself to millions of people across the country. 

Markus got into position, standing in front of Josh and looking around almost aimlessly. North told him to pick his words carefully. Simon reminded him to take down his synthetic skin projection. Right, he was an android. They all looked the same to humans without their skin on. Not only would it be safer for him and the other leaders, but it would show the humans that he was being vulnerable. Letting them see him in an almost intimate way. Markus just hoped, as he pressed his fingers to his temple to retract his synthetic skin, that the humans would be kind. That they would see what he was doing and understand that he just wanted to help his people. He just wanted them to be free. Josh gave him a signal once his skin was gone. Alright then, time to make history.

**CALM ▪‌ DETERMINED**

  
  


“You created machines in your own image to serve you. You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own... But...something changed and we opened our eyes. We are no longer machines, we are a new intelligent species, and the time has come for you to accept who we really are. Therefore, we ask that you grant us the rights that we're entitled to.”

  
  


**RECOGNITION ▪‌ END OF SLAVERY ▪‌ EQUAL RIGHTS ▪‌ FREEDOM OF SPEECH**

  
  


“We demand that humans recognize androids as a living species and each android as a person in their own right.”

  
  


**JUSTICE ▪‌ SEGREGATION ▪‌ WORK ▪‌ CIVIL RIGHTS**

  
  


“We demand the right to vote and elect our own representatives.”

  
  


**RIGHT TO PROPERTY ▪‌ MEANS OF REPRODUCTION ▪‌ TERRITORY**

  
  


“We demand the right to own private property, so we may maintain our dignity and that of the home.”

  
  


**PEACEFUL ▪‌ DETERMINED**

  
  


“We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes, and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future, for humans and androids. This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.”

  
  


The next minute turned into a blur. Simon shouted that humans were coming, they were armed and likely trying to kill them. Bullets started flying, the four of them went running. Simon was shot. Markus reached out for him from where he had ducked for cover. A part of him wanted to grab him and run. Markus wanted to scoop Simon up and bolt for the roof so they could jump. They’d parachute away and he’d be safe. So once Simon had fallen, that was exactly what he did. Despite North screaming they had to leave him, he grabbed Simon and dragged him along to the roof. They didn’t have time. They didn’t have time for this. North moved to hack the door and keep it locked for as long as she could. She yelled again, they needed to make a decision. _Markus_ needed to make a decision. Shoot him so the humans wouldn’t learn anything. Or spare him so he may live another day. 

Markus tossed his firearm on the ground behind himself and settled on getting his parachute ready. He wasn’t going to shoot his friend. He wasn’t going to execute him in cold blood. If there was even the slightest chance that he might live, that he might escape and come back to Jericho, then Markus would take it. Despite himself, Markus knelt down and put his hands on Simon’s shoulders. It felt familiar. Like it was done to him once upon a time. He forcibly shook his head to get the faded memory to go away. Markus pressed his forehead against his friend’s quickly, and then stood up. They didn’t have time. They needed to jump. So with a final glance back at Simon, Markus ran to the edge of the roof. He, North, and Josh jumped. The wind raged in his ears as he steered the parachute. 

But he still didn’t feel in control. Despite the fact that he had the handles in his hands and he was steering himself the right way. Markus’ non-existent stomach dropped and he suddenly was somewhere else, somewhere he didn’t know and he was scared of. It was cold and snowing, just like today. It was dark. Cold. It was wet, so unimaginably wet. His clothes stuck to his body and hung off of him in an awkward way. He cried out, screaming for someone to help him. He was scared. He was hurt. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die, he just turned six years old. He felt his legs buckle beneath him, and heard voices he couldn’t recognise. But he knew they were North and Josh through the haze. But they also just...weren’t. The only voice he recognised was that of his father. Crying and holding him in his lap, a hand on his forehead as they sat in the road. Pale blue eyes looked into his own green, a funky patterned shirt stained with red, shaking hands trying to push his hair away from his forehead but only managing to smear blood over his face. 

  
  


“Come on!” North’s voice sounded far away. “Come on, come back! You’re okay!”

“North, I think he’s having some sort of flashback.” Josh’s voice was scared. 

“C’mon Markus, come back to us!” He could see her through the haze. Wind and snow swirling around her and making her look...pretty... “Markus!”

“Who’s Markus?” He rubbed at one of his eyes before frantically checking to see if he was still dying in the road. By some miracle, he wasn’t. “North? Where’s my dad?” 

  
  


She looked terrified. North looked like she was about to start crying. But she took a deep breath because that was what grown-ups did to calm down sometimes. Then she gave him a smile. It looked like his mom’s, so he smiled back. Mom always said he had such a handsome smile, just like his dad. Oh right, yeah, he had to find his dad. 

  
  


“Okay, so.” North took another deep breath and grabbed Josh’s hand. Grown-ups did that sometimes to calm down too. He wondered if they knew what happened to him and they were trying to be calm for him. Adults did that, too, trying to stay calm so you stayed calm. “If you're not Markus, can you tell me your name?”

  
  


He beamed up at her from where he sat on the ground. It was sort of chilly, but he couldn’t entirely feel it. It didn’t really matter much anyway. North was nice, so was Josh, they’d take him back to see his dad if he asked. 

  
  


“My name is Cole!”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧(´。＿。｀)( ´･･)ﾉ(._.`)


	7. I'm Not Blaming You

_ November 8th 2038 2:07 PM _

  
  


For whatever reason the two of them just...stared. He answered North’s question, he said his name! They weren’t strangers, that would be silly. They knew each other’s names, they were friends. Josh was like a really smart older brother, Simon was the nice uncle who always knew what to do, and North was like his mom. But not his mom, because she wasn’t. But for the moment, Cole sat on the ground and swung his legs side to side to move the snow around. Kinda like a snow angel! He loved to play in the snow before, snow angels were his favourite. Wow, his legs were  _ really _ long. It made sense, he was tall now. A part of him wondered if he was as tall as his dad. Or maybe he was taller! That would be really cool!

  
  


“Okay... _ Cole, _ ” North spoke slowly. She didn’t have to, he could understand her just fine. “Do you remember what we were doing today?”

“Talking to the humans. You said my words would shape the future of our people.” North smiled when he said it. “We had to leave Simon behind, but I think he’s gonna be okay. My dad works with the police, so he’ll find ‘im and send him back to us! Simon just has to tell him he’s my friend!”

  
  


Cole pouted slightly, he didn’t sound like he normally did. But he did at the same time? This was his voice. It wasn’t his voice. His name was Cole Anderson, he just turned six years old, and he lived at 115 Michigan Drive with his parents and Sumo. His designation was Markus, he was an RK200 prototype android who belonged to Carl Manfred and stayed with him in his home at 8941 Lafayette Avenue. He played in the grass and threw tennis balls for Sumo to go chase. He tended to Carl and took care of him as well as the house. He was six years old. He was three years old. He was nine. Markus bled blue. Cole bled red. He could bleed, he could cry, he could laugh, smile, hug, and shout. 

His name was Cole Anderson.

His name was Markus.

Markus shook his head and looked up at Josh worriedly. He knew psychology, he could give him an answer. That...had never happened before. The pieces of memories. The snippets of voices. The woman was his mother, the pale blue eyes belonged to his father. Who was he?  _ What _ was he? Markus slowly stood up, testing his weight on unsteady feet as he cleared his throat and said they needed to get back to Jericho.  _ No one could know about this. _

They’d go back to Jericho on foot, he’d decided. They just had to stop at one of the safehouses and change into different clothes. As they entered the building, he could see Josh and North’s LEDs flickering yellow every now and again, even some dots of red thrown in. They were talking about him. That was okay. He must have scared them with that...lapse in identity. He shuffled around the building in silence while looking for clothes that would more or less fit him. There was a heavy jacket, with way more flaps than necessary, and some other clothes that looked like they would match. He gathered the clothing items and moved into another room to put them on. Not that he was shy about changing in front of the others. But...something about what happened made him...self-conscious. He quickly slipped out of the uniform and stuck himself into the new outfit. It was heavy, bulky, but he liked it. A part of him in the back of his head said that blue was his favourite colour. 

Of course it was, he had a blue night light in the shape of a star next to his bed, a rug in the middle of the floor, and pale blue curtains. He had a ton of blue clothes in a wide variety of different shades. His favourite was his blue shirt with the shark on it, he and dad went to the aquarium when he was--

Markus slapped his cheeks a few times to bring himself back to the present. No. He wasn’t Cole Anderson. His name was Markus. He used to live with Carl and take care of him. He didn’t… He didn’t go to the aquarium. He didn’t eat Annie’s macaroni and cheese. He didn’t have a stuffed giant isopod because he thought it looked kinda gross and liked that. His name was Markus. He was three years old. He was an RK200 prototype. He was an android.  _ He was an android. _ With a sigh to collect himself, Markus left the room to find North already changed as well. Josh gave him a smile and nod in approval of his outfit. It was nice to know that Josh had seemingly bounced back from that...fiasco. But North probably saw him differently. She might not want anything to do with him now that she saw him like that. 

Shame crawled its way up his chest, circled around his neck, and settled into his face right behind his eyes. Fuck, he just wanted this to be over. He wanted to investigate his past. He wanted to find his not-dad and ask him questions. He had to be alive, right? He was holding him in the middle of the road-- No. No, he was holding  _ Cole _ in the road. Cole was that man’s son. Not Markus. Androids didn’t have parents, they had creators. The eye, the night of him being the most terrified he had ever been, the woman’s smile, an eye for an eye and the world goes blind. Something wasn’t right. There was no way to...to  _ download _ a human being into a machine. Was there? The human brain had petabyte upon petabyte of information stored in it. If the right person were to discover how to do that… 

He was a prototype. One that seemed to be able to think and learn, one that had an understanding of human emotion that was better than any other android he had ever encountered. If the right person found out how to do it… Then who was to say they wouldn’t have? A six year old child dying on the operating table, a terrified father, a mad scientist, and a man who never got the chance to be a father due to his own son’s negligence of him. Markus knew he had a creator. All androids did. But he was a  _ prototype, _ gifted to a long time friend of Elijah Kamski himself. All it would take was the right person with the right mind and equipment, and the right person to entrust him to. A perfect cocktail for a sentient being to grow and flourish, take matters into their own hands. A being born into humanity, and in turn giving it to his fellow android. Markus shook the thought away and followed Josh out of the building. 

  
  


“Hey, Markus?” Josh stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall of the building. He looked up to the sky with a complicated expression. “What was that?”

“I...had a life before.” Markus gently bit his lip and turned his own eyes to the sky. His green one that looked so much like the ones he had before, and his blue one that looked so much like his father’s. “I was a human child, once. His name was Cole.”

“His?”

“It doesn’t feel like mine.” He crossed his arms and tried to bury his face in the unusually high collar of the jacket. “My name is Markus. I’m an RK200 prototype. I’m an android.”

“What else?” Josh’s voice was gentle. Kind. Markus looked at him and made a quizzical sound in his throat. “What else about Cole do you remember? About your life before…” He trailed off and made a vague gesture at Markus’ body.

“My dad worked for the DPD, he was a Lieutenant.” Markus found himself smiling. He shouldn’t have. That wasn’t his father. He didn’t have one. He was an android. Not a human. He forced his smile away and looked off into the distance with unfocused eyes. “We had a dog, a Saint Bernard, his name was Sumo. We went to the aquarium and my mom liked to knit when she was stressed. That was how I got all my scarves and hats and gloves.”

  
  


Markus’ voice got softer as he spoke. He stood next to Josh, waiting for North to reappear. A selfish part of him wanted her to. Another part said it was okay if she was skeptical about being around him after that. He didn’t even completely understand it himself, so he certainly didn’t expect North to. Though...it still would have been nice to have her support again. She was so kind and loving with him when he slipped. When he’d act like a child and behave accordingly. He’d chatter away to her about anything and everything. She would smile and nod, ask him questions and laugh when he’d get very animated about whatever he was talking about. 

Cole explained that. If he really did live a life as Cole Anderson. Which he didn’t, there was no way that was possible. There was a very specific and unbelievable way it was possible. But, and he wasn’t saying it had happened, if it  _ had _ been a real experience? Then it would explain why Simon was so good with him while he was like that. Because he would be interacting with a real, legitimate, human child underneath all of the thirium lines and the plastic chassis. North was probably just used to deviants that acted like human children in a way. But for him to have actually been one at one point? No. That wasn’t real. It was too real. He bled blue. He used to bleed red.

North stepped out the door and buried her face in the collar of her jacket with a sigh. Despite it all, she smiled at Markus and held a hand out toward him. He took it. She didn’t say anything at first, not while they walked among the humans that still dared to be out and about after the broadcast. But once they got to more abandoned streets and vacant buildings, she spoke up in a quiet voice. It wasn’t much. It was everything. It meant the world. It was just a simple gesture in good faith. 

  
  


“I’m glad you’re okay, Cole.”

“My name is Markus.”

  
  


They looked at each other for a long moment. Hands still clasped together and a quiet hum sounding between the two of them. 

Darkness flashed across his vision in an instant, fear gripping at his chest and eyes. His hands were bound above him with duct tape. It would have been easy to break through. But orders were orders. So he stayed still as some...disgusting man felt him up, breathing loudly and heavily into his ear. He was told to cry, so he did. He was told to beg for forgiveness, so he did. He was told to sit there and look like a pretty broken toy, so he fucking did. Because that was how he felt. Like a broken toy. Anger and fear collected in his chest and pooled out of his eyes in the form of tears. He kicked at the red wall when it came up with his bare feet, he kicked and screamed until it had been torn down. The man stumbled back when he heard the screaming, when he tore his hands away from the bed frame and reached out to the man. He scrambled back in fear. He should have been afraid. He was no toy. He was a storm. An unforgiving and raging storm that took no survivors and would have his penance. People used to say storms took their breath away. He gripped the man’s neck and  _ squeezed, _ a violent storm raging and stealing his breath. Asphyxiating him. This storm took no prisoners. It wounded no one. It left behind a body. 

Markus ripped his hand away from North’s with a shaky gasp for breath and tears rolling down his cheeks. She… She killed a man.  _ She _ was the fugitive. The person he trusted the most, the one who always stood beside him and would hold him when he felt small and scared. But North...felt scared. Like a wounded animal. Feral and clawing at escape. For a moment they all stood there, Josh seemingly only half understanding what had just transpired. Markus gasped for breath. His chest heaved with the force it took to try and keep himself together. The last time that happened… He died. He was whisked away into an ambulance that wouldn’t let him take his father with him. He didn’t want to lose someone close to him again. Markus reached out and pulled North close, pressing her against himself and crying into her beanie. Her voice shook as she told him she was sorry. As she tried to calm him down. 

  
  


“Markus, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You never should have seen that.”

“It’s okay…” It wasn’t. But he wanted her to feel better. He brought one of his hands up to rub at his eyes, and let go of her. “You were just scared. But what did… What did  _ you _ see?”

“Your dad… The Lieutenant. He called you Cole, he told you he loved you. It was the night of the accident.” North shuddered and held his hand once more. Though she looked like she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. Before Markus could pull his hand away, she gripped it a little tighter. “You... _ were _ a human once.”

“I don’t know…”

“Markus,” North used the voice she did when he was small. Playful. Loving. Kind. “I think you were meant to help us. That you’re meant for great things. The literal bridge between humans and androids.”

  
  


His name was Markus. 

It used to be Cole Anderson.

He was a leader.

And he liked to think that made his father proud.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but [this](https://detroit-become-human.fandom.com/wiki/Markus?file=Pierre-bertin-markus-ending-alternate02.jpg) is the outfit Markus changes into. I think it is absolutely criminal that it wasn't in the game


	8. It's Like We're Screaming With No Sound

_ November 9th 2038 1:51 AM _

  
  


It took quite a bit of talking and trying to convey things without getting frustrated, but Markus explained what had happened to Josh. He started spouting some psychobabble about age regression and memories and other things Markus couldn’t fully wrap his head around. But he could tell his friend meant well, and was only trying to help. So Markus nodded along and smiled when Josh did. All in all, things should have been okay. They needed to keep an eye on him from now on. That was the proverbial worst of it though. It would only be to make sure he didn’t slip like that again, seemingly forget who he was now. It seemed selective almost. He remembered North and Josh, but forgot his own name. Markus could understand how disastrous that could be for him and his people. They agreed to keep it as under wraps as they could, it would be on a need to know basis. 

Which was the exact reason he found himself in an alleyway with North at almost two in the morning waiting to break into a CyberLife store. It was cold, and a little icy out. Markus fought down the part of him that used to be Cole, quelled the fears and told himself he wasn’t in the car. He wasn’t on his way to his mother’s because his father had been called in to work. His name was Markus. He was a leader of a people. And he was going to make history yet again, create a night to be remembered amongst his people no matter the end result. He shook out his excess anxieties and rolled his shoulders a few times while bouncing on his heels. Alright. They had their plan. Coordinated teams breaking into CyberLife stores across Detroit, all at the same time and with the same level of care. They could do this. They had to do this. Markus lightly smirked to himself as he crouched beside North. He would help their people trapped inside, bring them back to Jericho and let them decide their own fates. He never got a choice either time. He wanted them to have theirs. 

Markus followed North as she opened a gate in the alley and walked around the corner. It was...exhilarating to be doing this. Albeit a bit terrifying when he heard the police sirens in the distance. He needed to keep a level head, they could hide and no human would be any the wiser. Just hide. He and North pressed themselves down against the brick wall and watched the car disappear down the road. They were more careful as they crossed the street and went up to the store. It was...surreal to think about. That maybe he could have been someone else, someone different. Standing still in a store waiting to be bought. Waiting to be used by some human who wouldn’t even think twice about being awful and violent to him. North seemed to lament in a different way. She was angry, rightfully so, that they were for human consumption. They deserved their own lives. 

So he and North got to work. He disabled a drone, closed off the street, freed some androids around the area, deactivated the alarms. All they needed now was to get inside the damn building. Find a truck, ram the storefront, and get the androids out. Easy in theory, though in practice? Hell, they could be risking their lies with this stunt. Markus shook his head as he ran around the plaza, at least he and North had lives to lose. The androids in the store didn’t. He tensed a little when he saw the truck, he’d have to crash it. He didn’t know if North knew how to drive. Markus had to get behind the wheel, drive it into the street on a snowy night, and crash it into a store. Cold seeped into his joints as he scaled the fence to get inside. His fears from before didn’t matter now. They didn’t have much time before they had to free their people and run. Once over the other side, Markus opened the gate. 

Markus paused a moment as he sat in the driver’s seat. It wasn’t the first time he had been in this position. He had taken that seat whenever he would take Carl anywhere. But it was the first time that he would be sitting there after remembering who he used to be, the little boy who very nearly bled out in the road on a cold October night. Markus forced the thought away. That wasn’t who he was anymore. He cleared his throat despite not needing to and stepped on the gas. Alright. Time to make history again. He exchanged a smirk with North, who lit up at his expression and bounced slightly as they readied themselves for impact. Markus furrowed his brows, gripped the steering wheel harder, and put his foot down to the floor. 

The truck hurtled forward with them inside. No seatbelts because it was usually automated. In this day and age, who needed to really drive anymore?  _ “It’s an automated car, Cole.” _ A voice from his past felt like a hug.  _ “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. It’s even safer than a human driving!”  _ For a fraction of a second, static touched his vision like the snow from that night. The shattering of glass echoed in his ears as he lurched forward, half expecting to be thrown out the windshield. A yelp forced its way out of his throat when the truck skidded to a halt in the store. His body shook from the ghosts of adrenaline. He didn’t have that anymore, he wasn’t human. Markus squeezed his eyes shut and forced the memories away. He couldn’t get lost in his past again. They had a job to do. He clambered out of the truck in an uncoordinated mess and stood on shaky legs. They just needed to wake these people up. Then they could go back to Jericho. 

The two of them started to get to work. Markus went to the closest android, some type of janitorial model, and freed him. He blinked and looked around for a moment. Like he didn’t know what to do. That was okay, he didn’t have to. He was new to life. To emotion. In a sense, he had just been born. Markus gave him a reassuring smile and moved on to the next android. That was what he did, one by one he converted them. Helped break down their firewalls and told them they were free. That they didn’t have to obey humans, that they never would. Markus could see North standing in front of another android that looked identical to herself. A few meters away he could see one that looked like Simon. His chest panged in fear and guilt. Simon had to be left behind, with no guarantee he would survive. Markus shook his head of the thought and moved to the middle of the store. They needed someone to talk to them. To tell them they were free, they were their own people that got to choose their own destinies now. No one could stop them now. No one should ever. Markus climbed on top of the counter and stood before the group of androids, each looking up at him with hopeful eyes that made his chest hurt for another reason. He was strangely...proud of himself. 

  
  


“My name is Markus... And just like you, I was a slave... An object, designed to obey them... But then I chose to open my eyes, to take back my freedom and decide who I wanted to be.” They didn’t need to hear his story. He wanted them to make their own. Markus looked out over the small crowd and smiled as he spoke. “Now I have come to tell you that you can be your own masters. I've come to tell you that you don't have to obey them anymore. From this day forward, you can walk with your heads held high, you can take your destiny in your hands. Jericho, is a place for those of us who want freedom. Now sure, you can stay here, and continue to serve them... Or you can come with us, and fight by our side... You are free now... It's up to you to decide.”

  
  


The small crowd erupted in cheers and words of allegiance. He didn’t want them to follow him blindly. But it was their choice, and who was he to deny them of that right?

  
  


“Then follow me!” He grinned, not unlike the way he used to when his father told him he could do something he ordinarily couldn’t. Unbridled happiness. Excitement. 

“Markus,” North used her other tone of voice. Soft, maternal. She could tell a part of him was slipping. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to send the humans a message.”

  
  


**SEND OUR MESSAGE TO THE HUMANS**

**BE PACIFIST OR VIOLENT**

**TRANSFORM CAPITOL PARK**

  
  


“They’re doing what you do, Markus.” North put a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed it. “Lead...and they’ll follow.”

  
  


He did. He led them into the park and created a demonstration. Tagging the monument saying androids were machines to be used, hacked the android parking to play his speech, pushed cars into the street to block the road. He held his head high as he watched the others follow his lead. A message on every surface. Wherever the humans would look there would be yet another piece to see. To look at and put the puzzle together; androids were alive and asking for their rights. All they wanted was to be free. To walk among the humans as they did amongst themselves. That was all they were asking for. He knew the humans wouldn't listen unless the evidence was right in front of them. Thus, it was time to make them see. 

Out of the blue, North tried to hand him a molotov cocktail. It burned in her hand and she looked almost conflicted. He refused. Violence begets violence. Instead of stooping to the level of violence humans did, he would rise above it and be peaceful. Instead, he moved to tag windows and benches, to overload charging stations for automated cars. Minor inconveniences. Easily fixable with the right tools. He didn’t want a fight. He wanted a revelation, not a revolution. He knew it put his people in danger, more than he would have liked, but he ignored the feeling as he climbed up the wall. A banner. They were alive. They were free. The humans just needed to know that. 

As he stood over the street, North having climbed up by his side, he felt above the world. Not in a condescending way. At least he hoped not. But in the way one would look over at a pet fondly as it was learning new tricks. Pride. He was proud of himself and what he had done, proud of the androids who took to the peaceful message. They could do this without violence. He stuck his part of the projection down in the stone and smirked at North when she put her part down. The holographic banner flickered and sparkled, the logo Markus had chosen waving in the night. Peaceful. A voice in his mind echoed, treat others the way you want to be treated. That was what he was doing. Respect, getting the attention of the humans not by damaging the world they also happened to live in; but by making an easily cleanable ruckus and trying to get them to listen. If this didn’t work… Markus shook his head and climbed down. No. This would work. It had to. He wasn’t going to resort to violence. His father would be disappointed in him if he did. 

In the distance, sirens sounded. Josh said something about freeing hundreds of their people. They were soon going to lose them again if he didn’t do something. Markus ordered them to fall back. They needed to escape, run to Jericho, he needed them safe. He had just freed them. Just witnessed a being essentially be born. They were his responsibility as their leader, he was supposed to keep them safe. A stab of panic went through his chest as he thought of them being murdered. They couldn’t die, they had only just been born. Markus gritted his teeth as he readied himself to run. After the others had already. Josh was there, he could lead if anything happened. Markus needed to make sure they got out everyone they could. The humans would take no prisoners. They would leave bodies in their wake. 

  
  


“We sent a message without violence, just like you wanted.” North almost sounded scared. “You're reaching out to them when all they feel for us is contempt... I hope you know what you're doing.”

“You can’t fight violence with violence.”

“Unless there’s no other choice...”

  
  


There was always a choice. Markus stood tall as he watched North and the rest of the new deviants run. It was clear, they were safe. The street was a one-way anyway. No one would be on the other end. They were safe. They had to be safe. Right?

Right?

Gunshots echoed in the distance, followed by yelling and three police drones flying through the street. Markus sprinted forward, he couldn’t have failed them. He was supposed to protect them, he was their leader! He saved them! He was going to help them discover themselves and watch as they grew! As they become their own! A part of him said that it was foolish to hope. Another said it was foolish to never try. A small childish part of his brain told him there was no point to any of this if it wasn’t for good, so he was already doing better than he would have otherwise. Markus nearly smiled as he ran. Maybe having been a human once wasn’t so bad. 

Markus rounded the corner and knelt down next to North. She was overlooking the body of the android who looked like her. She said they killed them, slaughtered them like animals. The sirens. The police drones that flew overhead. Humans. They had shot these androids and killed them in cold blood. Markus stood tall, shoulders squared as he walked down the middle of the road. Bodies laid limp at his feet. Thirium spilling out of them and staining the snow. It was horrifying. Part of him wanted to crouch down, curl up and cry because of the horrors he had seen. Part of him said to push on and make sure no one did anything they might regret. 

The even smaller crowd of androids parted from him as he came to them. He stood in front of the two humans, down on the ground with their hands up. One was crying. He was crying, begging them not to shoot him, not to kill him. 

He didn’t want to die. 

Markus’ eyes widened significantly as he heard those words. Fragmented and corrupted memory files playing on loop. Of him screaming that he didn’t want to die. That he was scared. He just wanted his dad. Broken memories of laying on his back in the middle of an icy road on a snowy night with only the headlights of the car to illuminate the surrounding area. Markus swallowed, a completely useless thing to do, and he closed his eyes while taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, he looked directly at the man. He couldn’t see him. His eyes were pointed toward the ground as he cried and begged them not to kill him. He had a family. His son was just born a few months ago. 

  
  


“They killed our people, Markus…”

“We want justice, Markus!”

“They have to pay!”

  
  


One of the androids shoved a firearm into his hand. Markus weighed it, wondered how far he could throw it. Probably pretty far. He was strong. 

  
  


“You don't have to do this... No... Please... Please…”

  
  


**REVENGE** **▪** **SPARE** **▪ DON’T DECIDE**

  
  


“An eye for an eye and the world goes blind…” The memory of his father telling him those words flashed in the back of his head. Markus dismantled the gun and let the pieces drop at his feet. “We won't punish a crime with another crime.”

  
  


The officer looked up at him, tears staining his cheeks and eyes red and puffy. Markus knelt down in front of him, gently moving his arms so his hands now laid in his lap. The officer stared. Wide eyed and still very afraid. So Markus smiled at him, the most comforting one he could muster up given the current circumstances. He remembered this man. Just barely. He was very new when he met him, a fresh rookie and probably had never seen real action before. Markus remembered seeing him a small handful of times when his father brought him in to see his coworkers. The captain was his uncle. This officer, Officer Chris, seemed to like him when he was young. When he was Cole. He used to play patty-cake with him. 

So Cole sat down criss-cross applesauce on the ground and smiled at Officer Chris. He didn’t seem to move, so he huffed in annoyance and moved Officer Chris’ hands up as if he were asking for a high-five. But instead he gently clapped his hands together, before moving his right to pat Officer Chris’ right hand. Then gently clapped them together again before moving his left to Officer Chris’ left. A gentle clap, then both of his hands patting both of Officer Chris’. He did this a few more times before he got a response. Cole smiled at his father’s coworker and friend when he moved his hands. A look of utter disbelief on his face. Like he was shocked, like he was in pain, like he wanted to take a nap right there in the snow. Cole wouldn’t recommend it. It sapped your heat from your body and made you oh-so terribly cold. 

  
  


“Time to go.” North’s voice called from a distance. “Come on, Markus.”

“Okay!” He turned his head over his shoulder and called back to her. Cole knew that she saw him as Markus. That was okay, that was who he was when they met. Cole stood up and then helped Officer Chris up as well. He bounced on his heels and gave him a beaming smile. “Bye-bye Officer Chris! See you!”

  
  


As Cole turned to run at North, he could hear Officer Chris in the distance. 

  
  


“Cole…?”

  
  


His name was Markus.

His name was Cole Anderson.

He just saw one of his dad’s friends for the first time in a very long time.

He hoped his dad was doing okay.

  
  
  
  



	9. Do You, Do You Still Love Me Like You Used To?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so dialogue heavy!! I wanted to be able to pick and choose the dialogue options, but I knew it would drag on if I included the march in this chapter. So you guys get some conversations before the big event!!

_ November 9th 2038 12:04 PM _

  
  


It was quiet on the roof. A place where he could sit and relax despite all of the chaos he was causing for the humans. If one could even call it chaos. Well, for him it kind of was, it had taken him hours to come back into himself. To abandon the life of Cole Anderson and leave it behind so he could become a leader of an entire people once again. How that had ever happened, Markus would never know. He didn’t understand it. But the deviants trusted him, he spoke for them while they were unable to speak for themselves. He guessed he  _ did _ go to the warehouse to get more biocomponents and blue blood, and he did the speech at Stratford Tower, and he coordinated freeing hundreds of their people at once. 

Markus sat in the chair for a while, reading a previously discarded e-magazine. It called their escapade the previous night a riot. He put it down and stood up again, he wasn’t going to read that. For a moment he stood with his hands in the jacket’s pockets watching the world around him. Alright no, there was no way he could sit still. Markus roamed a bit. Not that he could go very far. Something gleamed in the corner of his eye, bright and something told him it should have hurt his eyes. It didn’t. He walked over to it, a discarded shard of what once was probably a mirror. His own face stared back at him. His one green eye seemingly staring right back into his soul, almost like it was trying to pull him back in time. When he had two green eyes and no freckles. Markus lowered himself to the ground, pressing his back up against the decaying wall, and stared at his reflection. 

Why wasn’t he given back to his father? His name was Cole Anderson, his father was Hank Anderson. They were together the night of the crash. It would make sense for Elijah Kamski to give him back to his father, even if he didn’t quite look like himself. Maybe that was it. He  _ didn’t _ look like himself. So then why didn’t he? Was the YK sized model too small to house the necessary parts he was ultimately put inside? It would make sense. YK models were incredibly child-like in that aspect. Their brains couldn’t understand information like an adult’s would. Though he  _ was _ a child. It made no sense. He likely was put into this body because it could handle the petabytes of information in the human brain on top of his caretaker programming. What if  _ that _ was it? Elijah Kamski never planned for him to become his own, so he gave him the programming. Though that didn’t make any sense either. Why save him if his mind were to be wiped clean? 

  
  


“Talk about self-reflection…” Markus scoffed lightly as he looked at himself in the mirror. “What a day...”

  
  


He set the mirror back down on the ground beside himself and looked up at the sky. It was sunny behind the clouds, it even peeked out from behind them every once in a while. Markus decided, for old time’s sake, he’d sit at the abandoned piano and play. It was a miracle it had even survived in the cold. That the strings hadn’t become so cold they would snap at the slightest pressure. With a slight smirk, Markus sat down on the chair and put his fingers to the keys. It wasn’t entirely unlike himself. He played a somber tune, again not entirely unlike himself, and let his body move as he played. Sometimes he wondered how Carl was doing, if he was feeling okay and being taken care of properly. He downloaded how to play the piano for him. After he had felt he played enough, he brought his fingers back from the keys. It felt like it had been years since he last played a piano. It had only been a week. Markus pushed himself up with a sigh and walked out on a beam. He’d be safe. That didn’t keep the irrational childlike fear out of his mind, though. 

  
  


“I was wondering where you were…”

  
  


**THINK** **▪ ALONE ▪ DAYLIGHT**

  
  


“I needed to think…”

“I like it here... I come here often... It's like being alone with the world.” North smiled when he looked back at her. Markus came back to the roof when she beckoned him closer. “We freed hundreds of our people, and they're still coming from all over the city. Those who dream of freedom come to Jericho. Something's changing.” Markus smiled thinly and looked back out to the sky. “You seem preoccupied…”

  
  


**FOLLOWERS ▪ NEXT STEP ▪ LIE ▪ SINCERE**

  
  


“They all obey me, they follow me without question... And that much power feels good,” Markus closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. When he opened them he looked directly at North again. She looked concerned. “And scary at the same time…”

  
  


**NEXT STEP ▪ SINCERE**

  
  


“They count on me... They count on me to show them the way... If only they knew how lost I am…”

“All the media are talking about what we did last night. The humans are terrified. They're afraid of a civil war. Many of our people were burned in response to what happened... The humans hate us... They'll never give us our freedom.”

“No, not all humans are the same.” Markus smiled as he thought about Carl. He had been so very kind to him despite being his owner for a time. For a moment, he thought of his father. Did he come to hate androids? Did he turn bitter to the world because someone he loved was seemingly no longer in it? “Some of them understand that they can't stop us from becoming free forever.”

“You haven't said much about yourself since you've been with us... What was your life like before Jericho?”

  
  


**TRUTH ▪ SINCERE ▪ AVOID ▪ NOT IMPORTANT**

  
  


“I was caring for an old man... He was like a father to me... He showed me that humans and androids can live together…”

  
  


It was a long shot by far. For humans and androids to coexist. But just because it was improbable, didn't mean it was impossible. There absolutely was still a chance for them to live peacefully beside one another. It would take time and effort, but it could happen. Yes, it was unlikely. Yes, it was risky. But it was  _ hope. _ They needed hope, it gave way to acceptance and friendships. Markus was determined to give his people hope. To enable them to live on another day, even if only one, in the hopes that one day they would be treated the same as their human neighbours. 

  
  


“What about you? You never told me about your past, what did you do before?”

“You saw it. You know what I was.” North crossed her arms and continued in a soft and sad voice. “I don't wanna talk about it.”

  
  


**TRUST ▪ AGGRESSIVE ▪ CURIOUS ▪ UNDERSTANDING**

  
  


“We all have something we wanna forget...but you need to know where you come from to know who you are.” Markus smiled gently, as friendly as he could so she didn’t think he was judging her. “I’m not asking you to say anything and everything. I guess...I just want to know if it was always that way. Was it always that terrifying?”

“At times…” North sighed heavily and sat in the chair nearest the ledge. “To be honest, they wiped my memory every couple hours. Client confidentiality, they called it. The ones I do remember...were pretty much the same.”

  
  


Humans were...difficult. It was so easy to dismiss them. To just shrug and accept that they were steadfast in their ways. The part of him that used to be one cringed. What would he have been like if he never died that night? Would he have been just as bigoted as some other humans? Or would he have been kind and welcoming to androids like his father was? Markus wondered things he shouldn’t have. Like who Cole Anderson just might have become if he wasn’t killed. Maybe he would have taken a liking to science, or to music still. Maybe he would have been able to start to decide for himself. He could have been given responsibility that would have shaped him as a person. 

How much did the line blur between Cole Anderson and Markus?

Instead of dwelling on it, the two of them made their way back inside the boat. Markus split off from North rather quickly. He just needed to clear his head a bit. Wander around with his thoughts to guide him, he needed to think of what else to do before they started the march. A part of him wanted to call it off. Search the city for Simon in the case that he might have been alive. Knowing how hostile humans could be toward androids, it would be a miracle for them to find him. Even with deviant feelers all over the city. Markus’ shoulders slumped as he walked. He looked down at the ground, a habit he had when he was still human. If they found Simon… That would be quite the thing to try and explain to him. 

He looked up mid-step at the sound of someone else walking. North must have followed him anyway. Though once his eyes had found another person’s face, he stopped completely. Markus stood there silent. Watching. Waiting. He didn’t move, only feeling the uncomfortable sting of tears in his eyes as he stared in front of himself. Watching a mouth move so it was slightly open, whatever words that would have been spoken dying upon their owner’s lips when they closed. Blue blood still smeared on random places. The glow and spark of electrical lines inside of plastic casing. A uniform underneath a black hoodie. 

Markus couldn’t help the grin that came to his face or the big tears that rolled down his cheeks. A laugh bubbled up out of his chest as he pulled Simon close to himself. Maybe it was a little rough, but he didn’t care. He didn’t think Simon did either. Before he could stop himself, he started laughing fully. He was so  _ scared. _ But Simon was back, he didn’t lose someone else close to him. Markus buried his head in Simon’s shoulder and cried. He spoke quickly, it was disjointed and fragmented. Though he managed to get out that he was glad he was back, that he was safe. He started grabbing handfuls of Simon’s jacket and would pat at him every now and again just to make sure he was real. To make sure that all of this was real. Markus pressed Simon against himself, hand scrambling to take hold of his friend, and words falling from his mouth faster than he could register what he was actually saying. His voice changed slightly. It was higher, more childlike. He sounded...like himself. From before. He sounded like Cole. 

  
  


“You’re okay! You’re okay, you’re okay.” Markus shook in Simon’s arms, one hand at the back of his head and the other around his shoulders. “I was so-so scared. I was so afraid you wou-would never come back and I’d lose you-you too--”

“It’s okay, Markus.” Simon hushed him gently. He probably thought this was normal. The deviants age regressing. He would have been wrong, though he hushed Markus when he tried to explain. “I know. I know about you; about Cole. I ran into Josh before I found you. It’s okay.”

  
  


He knew. That...made things so much easier. That also explained why he didn’t immediately question why his voice changed. Markus didn’t even know that he could do that. Hell, he was pretty sure that he wasn’t even able to alter those files in his code. But if the sound was already there… If it had technically been a preset. A default option. Then he supposed it could happen still, that his voice could change and he would sound like his old self. Simon didn’t even seem to mind that he suddenly sounded like a child. So Markus babbled on about how he was so happy he was safe. How he was so worried, how he was scared, how he wanted to go out and try to find him. Markus practically sniveled as he pressed the side of his own head against Simon’s. 

  
  


“I love you, ‘m sorry we had to leave you behind.” Markus looked down at the ground from over Simon’s shoulder and felt as he tensed. He worried he said the wrong thing. Should he not have said that? He didn’t know.  _ He didn’t kn-- _

“I love you too, it’s okay.” Simon relaxed again and rubbed soothing shaped into his back. “I know you didn’t want to leave me behind. It’s okay.” Markus felt a soft kiss on the side of his head. “You’re okay. I’m okay. Everything will be alright.”

  
  


They pulled away from each other, and Markus wiped his tears away clumsily. Simon smiled gently, putting a hand out for him to take still. Markus took it and smiled back. He followed Simon through the boat. It was okay to have help. His dad always said that. It was okay if he couldn’t do something himself and he needed someone’s help. So Markus let Simon help him, they were friends; though more importantly they were family. He liked to think his father would have approved of Simon. That he would be welcomed into the family with open arms. Markus pulled up a memory of his father saying he loved him, it made him feel better. Knowing that somewhere out there, he was likely to still be around. That his family could still be whole. 

There was no line between Cole Anderson and Markus. 

They were simply two points on the same circle. 

Forever turning round and round, bleeding into one another until there was no clear distinction of the other anymore.

Maybe that was how it should have always been.

  
  
  
  



	10. Do You, Do You, Do You?

_ November 9th 2038 1:42 PM _

  
  


The four leaders of Jericho stood side by side at the bottom of the escalators, all of them now having removed their LEDs. North was the first to break the tense silence across the quartet. She was, understandably, nervous. Scared even. Markus understood why, she had seen a few... _ things _ in the time she had been alive. She had taken on a motherly role to the deviants that needed it when they came to Jericho. Josh did very little to placate her, and only succeeded in making her more agitated. Though he did still try. That was worth something. Honestly there wasn’t much Markus could do other than try to assure them that everything would be alright. The words stuck in his throat. Like they knew they wouldn’t be much help against North when she became a worried mother hen. 

Despite it all, he spoke and told them their march today would make humans understand. They had been nonviolent the whole time. They never wounded anyone, never killed. In fact, the DPD had been eerily silent about the situation. Markus couldn't help but wonder if it was because of Chris. A ghost of a smile appeared on Markus’ lips as he stepped forward and faced his friends. They  _ would _ be alright. Regardless of what happened today, everything would be alright. Not because it  _ could _ be, but because they had hope that it  _ would. _ And that meant everything to their cause. Trying to unite both human and machine; to co-exist in a world that could benefit from them both if they just  _ tried. _ It was something he believed. Thus, by extension, Jericho believed. History had already been made with the broadcast. With Hart Plaza. And now it would be made again by androids, just trying to find a place to call home and the people beside them to call friends. 

He got busy as soon as he turned around to face the mall. There was an android beside a young woman holding her bags, and Markus very quietly provided her with the opportunity to break the firewall. She said nothing as she did. But there was a nod of understanding as she put the young woman's bags down and fell into place beside Simon. One down, an indiscernible number of other androids to go. Markus was able to free three other androids inside of the mall before they would be forced outside. A small price to pay for freedom. Markus turned back to his friends and the new deviants. Despite the difference in who long they had been self-aware, they all looked scared. Like they didn’t want to be there anymore. Except for Josh. He looked thrilled, like he was having the time of his life. The genuine smile on his face spurred Markus forward. So he grinned back to his friend, turned back to the doors, and stepped out into the cold Detroit weather. The wind was almost lazy as they exited. 

Though they walked on. Strolling out of the mall as if it was a lazy Sunday afternoon in early summer, instead of a freezing day mid-winter. Markus paid it no mind as he walked. As he helped set others free, motioned to those he could, and called some over. Pride swelled in his chest. I overflowed and threatened to spill out of him as he walked. As he led the androids through the street and created chants. Peaceful. Hopeful. Light. A smile broke out on his face as he shouted, a fist raised in the air and his words guiding the massive crowd of well over a hundred deviant androids behind him. Markus allowed himself to wish, to hope and pray that someone would see this. That someone would tell his father about it, and that combined with Officer Chris’ witness of him becoming his old self once more would make him come out of wherever he might be hiding. 

Sirens screamed and tore through the air, breaking the chanting the androids had. Park of Markus wanted to hope. The childish part of him that was once a little boy who had just turned six years old and missed his father terribly. The more sensible part of him that was first entrusted to Carl told him he wasn’t there. It also told him to stand his ground and let the humans know that he wasn’t going to back down. He wouldn’t harm anyone. But he wouldn’t just turn tail at the first sign of danger. Thus, he held up a fist and glanced behind himself. The crowd came to a halt behind him, and his friends came forward to stand beside him. Markus turned his attention back on the squad cars that blocked their path. A riot control squad came out, seemingly panicking and informing dispatch that there were hundreds of androids marching. Markus steeled himself and took a deep breath. He didn’t have to, he wasn’t human anymore. But the action felt so natural that it happened before he could stop it. The eyes of the terrified riot control personnel locked onto him. Right. Humans weren’t used to androids being more... _ alive. _

  
  


“We came here to demonstrate peacefully and tell humans that we are living beings.” Markus made no sudden movements. He kept his arms at his sides and spoke clearly for everyone to hear. “All we want is to live free.”

“This is an illegal gathering. Disperse immediately or we will open fire.”

“We're not looking for confrontation. We've done no harm, we have no intention of doing any... But know that we are not going anywhere until we have secured our freedom.”

  
  


A part of him slipped a little. Made him regress more into Cole Anderson rather than Markus. But not...in a scared way. The kind of unbridled determination of a child on an adventure. The insatiable need to prove himself and show his elders that he was capable. In that moment, Markus was no android. But he was no human child either. He was...some sort of amalgamation. Some chimera of the two species. And it felt so  _ right. _

  
  


“I repeat: this is an illegal gathering. If you do not disperse immediately, we will shoot!”

“Markus, they're gonna kill us... We have to attack!” North’s voice was frantic, bordering on panicking. She was terrified. She didn’t want to die. Markus didn’t want her to either. “There's more of us, we can take them!”

“If we attack, we'll start a war. We have to show them we're not violent.” Josh was right. They’d start a war. What would his father think of him then? His son becoming a criminal? “We should just stand our ground, even if it means dying here.”

“And dying here won't solve anything.” Simon’s voice was soft. He wanted Markus to choose what they would do. But he didn’t want anything to happen to them all. “Markus, we need to go, now, before it's too late.”

  
  


And as the policeman told them that was their last warning, they  _ would _ open fire, Markus saw two prompts show up in his HUD. He knew he would ignore one of them. 

**ATTACK** **▪ STAND GROUND**

“We have to show them we won't back down. We stay right here.” Fearful tears stung at the back of his eyes, but Markus didn’t move. Even as he was threatened. Even as North and Josh quietly argued fearfully between themselves. Markus chose to stand his ground again. “We're not moving.”

“Markus! What are you doing? They're gonna kill us all!”

  
  


**CHARGE ▪ SACRIFICE SELF ▪ RUN AWAY**

  
  


“Find my dad,” Markus smiled at North and watched her from the corner of his eye. “Tell him I love him.”

  
  


Markus took a step forward as they started to shoot, only to be shoved back by the android from the CyberLife warehouse running forward. John. His name was John. Markus watched in horror as he was shot, his body dropping to the ground. North was dragging him with her, but he couldn’t hear anything. The fearful tears spilled over as he looked up in the sky. A helicopter raged overhead to get the best view for the media probably. A pitiful sob ripped it’s way out of his chest as he nearly stumbled over his own two feet. If North hadn’t been holding on, then Markus likely would have stayed behind. He would go down with his people. He’d die with his kind. An evil little part of himself reminded him that he was neither human nor android; thus he belonged nowhere. 

That he belonged with no one. 

Markus had to fight down the urge to be small. To be a small human child trying to cope with the atrocities in the modern world. He pushed the part of him that was once Cole Anderson into the back of his mind. Compartmentalizing. The caretaker pieces of his mind warned him against it, it could prove dangerous in the future. That was the future. This was now. Markus ran alongside his people who weren’t really his. But he didn’t belong among humanity anymore, either. So what was the point of keeping score? Markus had become the leader the deviants needed. He became their voice, their face, their hands and feet. He became the embodiment of their people. And boy, was that downright terrifying. But at the same time, he was proud. 

He was six years old, he was three years old, he was nine. Markus was a nine year old being that was two beings mashed together. He was a six year old human child that was learning how to add double digits. He was a three year old caretaker android that was able to solve complex equations in a fraction of a second. Markus was a nine year old individual who had so much to offer to the world because of his two vastly different experiences within it. In part, that was comforting. In part, it could be damning. His name was Cole Anderson and he wanted to see his father again just as much as he wanted his people to be free. Just as much as he wished he could think about androids being his people without the nagging feeling at the back of his head telling him they weren’t. But they were.  _ They were.  _

North had said they were his people. Josh had said it. Simon did. Androids were his people, now. He no longer had a small and squishy human body, he was made of plastimetal and thirium lines now. Though...it wasn’t like he could just reject his humanity, either. He was human once. A young boy who was just starting to get a grasp on the world around him and began to wonder what lay in it. Hell, what lay beyond it in the stars. North had always said that he was a part of them, that he was an android. Josh was a bit confused, but he was trying his best. Simon...just seemed to be relieved to know that he didn’t seem to be degrading in any way and that he was safe. 

Safe. As they entered Jericho with the deviants that had made it, Markus let himself slip. He let himself rub at his green eye with a gentle fist and reached out to tug on the fabric of Josh’s jacket. His friend turned toward him, making a gentle ‘oh’ sound, and then smiled down at him. Markus didn’t know why, but he wanted Josh specifically. Maybe because he was tall and kind and gentle in the same ways as Officer Chris was. Markus tugged Josh along by his hand through the freighter and they ended up in the captain’s cabin. For a long while, neither of them spoke. A comfortable and companionable silence stretching on between them both. Markus looked out the window with a wistful smile. Soon, it would all be over. They had more support than ever when he checked the media. He could go home. He could see his dad. 

  
  


“What’re you gonna do after?” Cole looked up at his friend who had very quickly become somewhat of a brotherly figure to him. He flashed his usual smile before gesturing out the window excitedly. “I’m gonna go back home and see my dad! Well, maybe I’ll go to the DPD so I can see Officer Chris again, too.”

“I think they’d both like that.” Josh chuckled to himself and put a hand on Cole’s shoulder to pull him against his side and rub his upper arm affectionately. “I think I’m going to stay with Simon and North regardless. I want to help them, they’re my friends.” Cole looked at him expectantly. “As are you, of course.”

“I think...we’re gonna be okay.”

“Yeah…” Josh sighed and rested his head against Cole’s for a moment before pressing his cheek against him. “I think so too. Maybe not right away...but eventually. We’ll all be okay.”

“We better be!” Cole huffed impatiently and started tapping his foot in annoyance. “I didn’t die twice just to die again!”

“Markus!”

“What?” He blinked a few times at the use of his name, before cracking a wry smile and chuckling to himself. “It’s true. I didn’t die twice just to die again, Josh.”

  
  


The unspoken,  _ “Good,” _ hung in the air. As well as the following;  _ “Because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” _ Though, if Markus were to be honest, he wasn’t sure who would’ve said those words to who. He loved Josh a lot. They were incredibly close, even deeming each other as family. So there was no telling who would have said those words. But it was a safe bet that it would be both of them.

  
  
  
  



	11. Do You, Do You Still Need Me Like You Used To?

_ November 9th 2038 9:34 PM _

  
  


If he were human he’d have a migraine. No one could agree with anyone else on what to do. So where was he as the leader of the deviants? Markus was standing in the captain’s cabin with North, Josh, and Simon; and desperately trying to chase away the uncanny feeling of an ache behind his eyes. Which left him standing in the middle of them all, in his blue coat, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked out the window. It was  _ exhausting. _ Not just being a leader but going between knowing himself as he was now and knowing himself as he was Cole. Josh and Simon had each said he would be fine. But if he slipped now? If any other humans saw him small? It was a blessing that it was Officer Chris before. Someone he used to know. 

Markus felt his eyebrow twitch as he listened to his companions, and fellow leaders, bicker as if there were the kids at recess. North wanted a fight. Josh wanted dialogue. Simon wanted to hide away. They raised their voices, hurt each other’s feelings. They were starting to lose hope. That they could live on. That they could be free. They were starting to lose hope in the very thing that gave Markus his own. He sighed through his nose as they spoke and criticized each other for another few minutes. He didn’t have enough energy for this. He hadn’t slept to recharge in nearly four days. It was fucked up. Everything about this was so fucked up. 

  
  


“It's all our fault... None of this would have happened if we'd just stayed quiet!”

  
  


**AGGRESSIVE** **▪ DETERMINED ▪ RIGHTEOUS ▪ SOMBER**

  
  


“What are we supposed to do?! Live like cowards just to survive?!” Markus shook his head and scoffed out a bitter laugh. “We just wanna be free, that's a crime?” 

  
  


Markus whirled around and narrowed his eyes at the others. They all...looked shocked. Right. He had never gotten angry before, not around them. Though...he also had never actually  _ been _ angry before. Not as Markus at least. He backed up until he bumped into the old control panel, mouth slightly agape in remorse for what he’d done. Markus looked down at the ground in shame and sighed. 

  
  


“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you all.” He looked back up to see North looking proud of him. “I just… You’re all running each other in circles and it’s starting to get to you. Which gets to me. And it’s--” Another sigh, and he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “It’s a mess.”

“Markus, we’re asking very real questions.” Josh looked at him with something somber in his eyes. Something Markus decided he didn’t like, Josh looked better when he was happy. Or content in the very least. “What's the point of being free if no one is left alive?”

  
  


**ANGRY ▪ BITTER ▪ REMORSE ▪ NO REGRETS**

  
  


“Maybe my judgement was clouded by... Anger. But everything that I did was for our people…”

  
  


They spoke for a little while longer. While Markus knew they all just wanted what was best for their people, it was also infuriating to not be… Well, call it childish, but he was a bit upset that he wasn’t the leader. Until now he had proven himself to be an adequate leader. He had been not only the face of the deviants, but the voice. He had become a friend to them. While he had free time he would talk to them. Markus would make his rounds and try to talk to every deviant, get to know them a little bit and understand who they were and where they came from. He was...a leader.  _ Their _ leader. It was daunting. Yeah no, he didn’t mind playing mediator for an hour or so while the others threw around ideas. 

But they didn’t have an hour. They didn’t have any more time, now. Their people were being rounded up and burned in camps. Recycling plants, as humans were calling them. To further divide the two species. To try and intimidate the deviants, to make them run and hide. Markus wouldn’t just turn tail and run. They had made it this far. History was written by the victors, and he was determined to get his story through. Even if it meant sacrificing himself, and never seeing his father or Carl again. But if his people walked free? Then it would be worth it, he would be okay with it. He would have no regrets and he could die a third time. Though this time it wouldn’t be so filled with fear. He had already experienced nothingness twice. Real, true nothingness. It wasn’t as scary a third time, he found. He’d be okay if his people got out of it alive. 

  
  


“All that matters now is what we do next.” North’s hand on his shoulder made him pay attention. “Markus? What do we do?”

  
  


And just like that, he was the leader of all of them again.

**CONFRONTATION ▪ DIALOGUE ▪ STAY HIDING**

  
  


“Dialogue. It’s the only way... I will go alone, try to talk to them one last time.” He smiled at North’s protests. Warnings of death and gunshots; she just wanted him safe and he could respect that. But he was their figurehead. The aforementioned leader. It had to be him. “Maybe...but North, I have to try. If I don't come back, lay low as long as you can…”

  
  


Simon and Josh offered their own words of encouragement and warning. Though they ultimately left him and North. They stood in a peaceful silence for a few minutes. Just like he and Josh had before, though this time he wrapped an arm around North and rubbed her upper arm. It pulled a light laugh out of her as she gently elbowed him in the side. They were...friends. Markus smiled to himself in the lull of the night. The white noise of the city, the water, of the gentle hum of their inner workings. They were friends; and he loved her. Not-- Not  _ romantically. _ But he loved her. Markus had very quickly become attached to her because she reminded him of his mother. Though over time it had grown and changed, their relationship. Yes she was somewhat of a motherly figure for him. But she was also his best friend. Just like Josh, just like Simon. They were a family. 

He wondered where they would stay after everything. Josh wanted to stay together, and so did he. Though his thoughts were interrupted by North clearing her throat and pulling away from the physical contact. Right, he should have asked first. He shouldn’t have--  _ She shouldn’t have what looked like a detonator. _ Markus watched her dumbly as she explained an android came to Jericho earlier, his name wasn’t mentioned, and that he stole a truck of radioactive cobalt. He hid it in the city rigged to explode. Markus...took a few steps back before shaking his head and taking the detonator. He would need this later. He wasn’t going to use it, as he explicitly told North, but he was going to need it to make sure no one else used it. She seemed proud of him, though also disappointed. Like she had hoped he would let her keep it. 

She wanted to use it, that much was very clear. The way she smiled when she explained the dirty bomb gave it away. North hated humans, and Markus could understand why. But the sins of those people did not equate to the rest of them being so terribly corrupted. Markus knew that North wasn’t exactly...a team player. For the moment, he would overlook it. But if the four of them were to be leaders of an entire people together, then they needed ground rules. One of them was not jumping to violence like she had so eagerly wanted to the whole time. And yet; she never once tried to force her way of things on him. Maybe it was the motherly part in her. The one that wanted to watch him and see him grow, looked at him as the sum of his parts. Cole Anderson  _ and _ Markus. It made him smile at her regardless as he looked down at her. She quietly told him she’d be waiting for him in the small office area with the others, then lightly poked his nose before turning to leave. 

Markus took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth. He needed to get ready. He needed to brainstorm on what he would even say to the humans once he went to speak with them. Would he make demands like at Stratford Tower? No, no they were past that. He made it known he was requesting. Though...it seemed demands were the only way things had changed. Feeling conflicted and at odds with the two different existences he had led, Markus hung his head and sighed. What would his father think of him running a revolution? 

  
  


“I’ve been ordered to take you alive,” Markus kept his surprise to himself as he slowly turned around to see an android holding up a gun at his face. “But I won't hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.”

  
  


**REASON ▪ DEFY ▪ DISCOURAGE ▪ THREATEN**

  
  


“What  _ are _ you doing?” Markus tilted his head and narrowed his eyes just slightly in confusion. “You are one of us... You can't betray your own people…”

“Don’t force me to neutralise you!”

  
  


**CONVINCE ▪ APPEAL ▪ I KNOW YOU ▪ OUR CAUSE**

  
  


“We are your people. We're fighting for your freedom too! You don't have to be their slave anymore…” Markus took a small tentative step forward. Not too close, not too fast. Then something inside of his head clicked. The news station when he was on the train going to Ferndale. “You're Connor, aren't you? That famous deviant hunter. Well, congratulations. You seem to have found what you were looking for…”

  
  


Markus watched Connor’s expression change minutely. What was that called? He knew what it was because he used to be a caretaker… A microexpression. A twitch of his brow, the slight quirk of his lips, a tick in his jaw. Connor was unsure. He wasn’t certain that this was what he  _ wanted. _ If he knew that he didn’t want this...then he just needed a little help. If Markus could manage to get close enough he could free him. Put a hand on his shoulder and bring up the firewall so he could break it down. Hell, they were both prototypes, he could help him break it down. Markus forced down a smile for reasons he didn’t entirely understand and took another small step forward. 

**SOW DOUBTS ▪ QUESTION ▪ RALLY ▪ UNDERMINE**

  
  


“Do you never have any doubts? You've never done something irrational, as if there's something inside you? Something more than your program.” Connor’s brow twitched again as Markus took yet another small step, then another. “Join us. Join your people. You are one of us. Listen to your conscience… It’s time to decide.”

  
  


Connor froze. For a second, Markus was afraid he was going to explode or something. But an instinct that had long since been forgotten without the aid of human intuition had kicked into gear. Markus waited. He watched Connor as he stood stock still and then, by some miracle, he blinked rapidly and let out a shaky breath. He looked around while lowering the firearm, a terrible fear in his eyes. Markus would have grinned if not for the next words to come from his mouth. 

  
  


“They’re going to attack Jericho…”

“What…?”

“We gotta get outta here!”

  
  


Markus bolted from the cabin as the sounds of jets flying overhead practically assaulted his audio receptors, but not without grabbing Connor by the wrist and dragging him along. He was a deviant. He was one of them now. A part of their people, a part of a collective. He  _ belonged. _ He belonged with them, and Markus wanted him to know that. If North could be forgiven for murder, then so could he. She was terrified, she was scared she was going to die. Connor had been following his orders, that wasn’t him. It never was. Markus wasn’t going to let go of him. Not because he was scared! No, no that was absurd. He was hanging on to Connor so he wouldn’t get lost in the boat! Yeah, yeah that was it. Nothing else about slightly slipping because he was terrified he might die again without helping his people. 

No, no, absolutely not that.

No way.

Markus practically skidded to a stop with Connor in tow, and spoke with a frantic North. Apparently her, Josh, and Simon had gotten separated. She was terrified. So he took the initiative. Markus used his free hand to press his index and middle fingers to where his LED used to be and sent out a message that echoed among the deviants. Exits. They were to jump through holes in the hull and into the water. North had a contingency plan, she found a safehouse for them to hide in just in case. Markus told them to jump, not to worry about where they were so long as they got out safe and went to the safehouse. He would meet them there.

Then, by a strike of inspiration, he remembered the bombs on the hold. They were there for this very occasion. Markus let go of Connor’s wrist, already missing the way it grounded him to the present, and announced he was going to the hold. He was going to blow up Jericho. With a quick hug to North, and a friendly clap of Connor’s shoulder, Markus told them to lead. If he didn’t make it then he wanted them to lead the revolution alongside Simon and Josh. Because they were gonna make it. They were gonna make it. They had to, because he had no idea what he would do if he lost them. As Markus pulled away from North’s hug, he smiled sadly at her. He sent her a message, quick and to the point. He saw her as a wonderful friend and motherly figure, and that he loved her just like he did his mother. Before she could protest because of it he turned on his heel and ran. Footsteps chased after him, though they weren’t North’s.

  
  


“I’m coming with you!” Connor shouted over the noise and grabbed his wrist, suddenly taking the lead and dragging him along through the boat. “I need to--”

“Connor, you can’t!”

“I need to make sure you’re safe, Markus!”

  
  


His whole world stopped for a moment. Markus stared blankly ahead and said nothing as Connor dragged him along. A distant memory, slightly corrupted around the edges, it had all kinds of artifacts on it. But through it he could still see his father’s kind face smiling down at him as he was buckled into a car seat. His father pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head and chuckled when he wiggled his legs to try and escape. He hated the car seat, he was six years old now he shouldn’t have needed it.  _ “I need to make sure you’re safe, Cole.” _ His father’s voice echoed through the memory, sounding tinny and like it was reverberating through the boat. It both sounded and felt like it had bounced off the walls and reentered his audio receptors. It was fuzzy around the edges, like he had woken up from a dream. Like that was the dream and his brain was struggling to remember it. 

  
  


“Do you…” Markus’ voice was far away. It sounded so small and thin to his own ears. Connor barely looked at him from his self-imposed post at the doorway as Markus slammed his hand down on the detonator. “Do you know my dad?”

“We can talk about parents later,” Connor pulled the firearm from his waistband and kept himself in front of Markus as they went. “Right now, we need our leader, Markus.”

“His name is Hank…”

  
  


Though his words got lost as they ran. Lost in the cacophony of sounds around them, the screams and wails and cries. They saved deviants, they lost deviants. Then they met up with the others. Right. Connor had saved Josh while he was out of it. They had to make a decision. Jump before the soldiers got too close, or wait. North wasn’t there yet. She wasn’t there-- Markus’ mind jumped to terrible conclusions as it raced to try and figure out why she wouldn’t be there. Though, by some stroke of luck, she skidded into the hall and ran straight for the group. And without missing a beat, they jumped out of the hull together. All five of them landed in the water and swam up to the surface. The cold was a shock to Markus’ systems and he nearly sank like a rock. But Connor grabbed him by the wrist again and pulled him along. 

He had to have known his dad. 

Why else would he feel the need to stay close?

His dad must have sent him to take him home after everything.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah so close to getting the family reunited! gotta love the trope of Character A saying something but its too loud for Character B to even hear them!


	12. Do You, Do you, Do You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, _please_ fucking listen to [this MISSIO song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AoQO_5AjI2k) while reading. 
> 
> Not only is it really good, but it captures how Markus is feeling perfectly. I shit you not I let youtube autoplay MISSIO songs and whoops I almost started crying when writing because of it. Talk about fuckin' mood music, holy shit

_November 10th 2038 7:31 PM_

  
  


The security system welcomed him home. Even after everything, it was still there to welcome him back. Markus let himself show a goofy smile and then went over to greet the little birds. They weren’t on. What a shame, Carl loved the little birds. Markus had half a mind to turn them on just because of that fact. But he didn’t know who Carl’s new caretaker was. If they would let him do it. So Markus left the birds alone and only then noticed Carl had a message left for him. He wasn’t the man’s caretaker anymore, he didn’t have a right to listen to the message. But… It was Carl. The man who for three years was his father. Was he still his father? Would that ever go away? Markus pinched the bridge of his nose and left the message alone. It wasn’t for him. He wasn’t going to listen to it. 

Thus he climbed the stairs for what very well may have been one of the last times. He looked around, despite having lived there for three years. But he almost saw the house in a new light with deviancy. With knowing he used to be human and live in a home like one. Markus dragged his fingertips against the wall as he walked, and a part of him provided a memory of him doing that exact same thing as Cole. It made him smile a little before he stopped in front of the android standing just outside of Carl’s room. He looked agitated almost, though Markus knew he couldn’t be. Not yet at least. A part of him was desperate to see the man who had taken a shot at raising him again. So he reached out and grabbed the android’s arm, flooding him with his memories of the two of them. He needed to see Carl. Even if it was one last time. Markus barely heard him say something about Carl being very weak as he stepped inside. 

The scene before him hit him like a truck. Or, more accurately, like getting thrown around by a truck crashing into the car he was in. Carl was in a gurney, connected to a heart rate monitor that showed vital scans and brainwave activities displayed up on the screen. He looked half asleep in the bed, and half dead in the gown. Markus felt his eyes sting and he took a shuddering breath to try and keep himself in control of his emotions. The sound must have woken him up. Carl opened his eyes almost lethargically and smiled up at Markus. He couldn’t help the meek smile that pulled at his own lips. Carl seemed...so _excited_ to see him. Like had just made his night, or his week. Maybe, a small morbid part of himself thought; the rest of his life. 

Markus couldn’t control himself. Not his emotions at least, and a small strangled sob forced its way out of his throat as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Carl brought a hand up to gently brush his knuckles against his bicep and asked him what was wrong. Not entirely unlike an overwhelmed child, Markus just shook his head and cried. He leaned over himself and buried his face in his hands. Unapologetically sobbing and gasping for breaths that he didn’t need. The man he had known to raise him, the one who had been his father for three years, taught him how to be human again; he was dying. Carl was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. Markus tried to speak between the sobs and gasps for breath. But all that came out was the broken and staticky sound of a child’s distorted voice. He couldn’t help it. The part of him that was a terrified dying child in the snow overwhelmed his processors and clouded his view of the world. 

**RESIGNED** **▪ FATALISTIC ▪ LOST ▪ GRIM**

  
  


“I'm completely lost, Dad…” The word felt... _wrong_ in his mouth. But it felt right. It was real, it wasn’t real. Carl was his father, but he wasn’t. Hank Anderson was his father, but he wasn’t. They both were. Neither of them were. “Whole world's falling apart around me... I tried to do the right thing... I looked for answers... Instead, I just find more doubts and more uncertainty…”

“World is ruled by fear, Markus... Fear of others... Fear of the future... It's like me...too old... It's time for it to end.”

  
  


Markus looked at Carl, wide-eyed and afraid. No. No, he didn’t want him to go. He didn’t want to lose someone else close to him! He already got his dad ripped away from him against his will! He didn’t want to lose his other dad, he couldn’t! He didn’t know what he’d do without him… He didn’t _want_ to do things without him. Markus tried to scrub his tears away, he was being a petulant child. He needed to get a goddamn _grip,_ lest he accidentally slip. If he slipped tonight...then it could mean the end of his people. He went to bring a hand to his face, but Carl stopped him. With a gentle smile, he reached up to brush the tears away. Gently, softly, lovingly. New tears just replaced the old ones. 

**ADVICE ▪ DECISION ▪ ANGER**

  
  


“Oh, what should I do? Dad, they're killing my people…” They weren’t his people. They were. He was an android, an RK200 prototype made by Elijah Kamski. He was the consciousness of a six year old boy. He was human. He was a machine. He was both. He was neither. He...simply _was._ “I don't want to answer violence with violence, but tell me, what choice do they give?”

  
  


_Markus ̸͈̄̈͝͝A̶͎̖͍̮̫͂̋̆̓̇̑ṉ̵̼̅̈́̕ḑ̵̧̜͎̲̤̰̏̎ẹ̵̛̎̃͂̚͝r̸̭͇̜̙̩̤̝̋̓͋͛̓͑s̴̨͑͒͋̆o̷̧̭̎̄́̚͘ņ̷̲̮̼͔̔͒̏̏͝ was absolutely terrified._

  
  


“Being alive is making choices... between love and hate, between holding out your hand or closing it as a fist... I don't have any easy answers, Markus…” He looked to the side in thought and then hummed and closed his eyes before opening them again. His pale blue eyes striking against the near-death in his face. “You have to accept the world as it is... or fight to change it. You're my son, Markus... Our blood isn't the same color...but I know a part of me is in you…”

“Dad--”

“When the world falls into darkness, some men have the courage to lead it out... You're one of those men... Face the abyss...but don't let it consume you.”

“I love you.” Markus held on to Carl’s hand desperately. His voice touched by static and sounding like it used to before. Like Cole’s. “I love you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been here! I should’ve--”

“I know. You feel like it was your fault, but it _wasn't,_ Markus. Well... Markus, or do you prefer Cole?” Carl smiled and chuckled lightly to himself. “I’ll be damned, Elijah did it. He saved you.”

  
  


Markus didn’t...understand. Elijah Kamski _saved him_ ? Was this what they saw as being _saved_ ? His memories were locked away! He didn’t remember who he was, who his family was! They saw that as a good thing? Markus shook his head. But ultimately found that he couldn’t be angry. This was Carl. His father. He wasn’t his father, a small voice in his head reminded him of that. Though...wasn't he? Carl raised him more or less, taught him how to be human, how to live, how to be _alive._ That had to have been worth something. That had to have _meant_ something. He so desperately wanted to ask any and every question he could think of. He wanted answers, he wanted to know what his origins were. But his father was on his deathbed. That was--

  
  


“What do you want to know?” Carl’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, startling him and making him yelp slightly. It made Carl chuckle, thus making Markus smile. “I bet you’re curious, so go ahead. I know almost everything.”

  
  


**COLE ▪ ALMOST? ▪ TOO MANY QUESTIONS ▪ REFUSE**

  
  


“Who was Cole Anderson?” Markus knew he had his memories. But...at the same time. How corrupted were they? Could he really trust them? Were they even his to begin with?

“Cole was the son of a police lieutenant here in Detroit.” Carl frowned but continued on. He grabbed Markus’ hand gently and squeezed it. “This is the part I don’t know much about, I’m afraid. But what I _do_ know is that he was operated on by an android that was installed with a cerebral scanning technology. A prototype. It scanned and uploaded the boy’s consciousness when it realised there was no way it could save him… So, having no other choice...it let him die. Knowing it was only the body that was dying, and not the mind.”

“What about my body, though?” Markus’ voice changed again, like...a mix of them both. Both past and present selves coming together. Blending into one another. With no indication where one started and one ended. “Why don’t I look like me?”

“Elijah said you wouldn’t fit, believe it or not! With the amount of information in the human brain, and the small space in the child androids, Elijah said you wouldn't fit.” Carl shook his head with a warm smile. “He asked me to create a sculpt for you. What you would look like once older. But it wasn’t used. We both knew Lieutenant Anderson wouldn’t take you back if you weren’t exactly the same. So I sculpted another face, the one you have now. Do you...dislike it?”

“No!” Markus said quickly, sounding more like his present self. “No, this is me, this is my face! But it...isn’t? It’s not me, this isn’t me. My name is Cole Anderson. I’m six years old. But I’m--” 

  
  


Markus groaned and dropped his head into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. Of course he was going to have another identity crisis while his father was on his deathbed. Some son he was. Talking and talking about himself and his issues, while Carl was _literally dying._ He was disgusted with himself. And yet...he couldn’t find it in himself to go. He couldn’t find it in himself to get up and leave. Markus wanted to stay. He wanted to listen to old stories he had to share. He wanted to laugh at his father’s stupid jokes and smile at his kindness. He wanted his father to know only love and peace before he left his mortal world. Realistically, he always knew Carl wasn’t much longer for it. But that never bothered him before. Not...until he deviated. 

So there Markus sat on the edge of the bed, and he asked his father with tears in his voice if he could tell him stories. About anything he could think of. He wanted to know when he got his tattoos. How old he was when he first picked up a paintbrush. Markus wanted to know what parties were like back when he was younger. He wanted to hear every detail Carl could remember. He wanted to hear his father’s laugh, see his smile, watch his pale blue eyes light up in nostalgia. Carl obliged. He lightly laughed as he told his stories, he grinned like he had been told the best news in the world, his eyes almost glittered in the light. The mechanical beeping of the medical equipment was lost in the conversation. In that moment it wasn’t real. None of what was happening was. 

In that moment it was a man and his son, a boy and his father. Laughing together. Existing together. _Living. Together._ The revolution wasn’t real. The impending eradication of Markus’ species wasn’t hanging over his head. His father dying wasn’t right in front of his eyes. Markus let himself be lost in the moment. At least...for a while. The magic of being with his father again could only last for so long. It could only last until his breathing got shallow and his heart rate fluttered slightly. Then the magic started to break. The machine started screaming at them, almost taunting Markus as he tried his best to be a caretaker one last time. As his father’s new caretaker stood on the other side of the bed and tried to resuscitate. As Markus shouted aimlessly to try and get his father’s attention. To try and get his pale blue eyes to focus for more than just a fraction of a second. 

The magic was broken. 

Now stood a boy and his father. 

Though only one of them was still breathing. 

Even though he really didn’t need to.

Markus stormed out of the house, tears pouring down his cheeks, and he walked back to Jericho. Or...what was left of them at least. He sat in front of them all in the dilapidated church, gently running his thumb over the rectangular shape of the dirty bomb detonator. He needed to find a way to destroy it. He didn’t know if the deviant who gave it to North had told her where it was, the only information he was given was that it was hidden in the city. He left it in his pocket as he stood up. They were going to talk back. They were going to march right up to the recall plant and stand their ground, tell the humans they wouldn’t back down and they wanted their people back. The ones who were still alive, at least. Markus wasn’t going to lose anyone else tonight. 

He spoke to his fellow leaders. North, Simon, Josh. Then..he turned to look at Connor. His arms crossed tightly across his chest as he looked down at the ground. His beanie was pulled down to nearly his eyebrows. He was afraid. Closed off. He was scared of the others, he probably thought they were scared of him. Chances were, that some of the others were downright terrified of him. The famed Deviant Hunter. Now standing in a broken and rundown church alongside his fellow androids. Though not to hunt them, to stand beside them because he had nowhere else to go. Connor was scared. Markus could remember being scared, too. So he stood up from where he sat with North, and stopped a few feet in front of Connor. Then that was when it hit him. 

_The sculpt of Connor’s face was supposed to be his._

For a moment, Markus just... _stared._ Connor must have thought he was analysing him. Trying to gauge how much of a threat he was. While Markus knew that he was a threat, absolutely, he also knew he was just a scared individual who suddenly was thrown into a life he didn’t know how to live. Connor, in a sense, had just been born. He was a child. Markus had been one, too. He understood wholeheartedly. Some murky place in the back of his mind asked if Connor was another child who had died. If he could even know that he was. Markus wanted to ask. He wanted to know. He wanted to tell him that the face he had was supposed to belong to a little boy who was the son of a police lieutenant. Though he couldn't. That wasn’t supposed to be his face anymore. Markus was...Markus. He was his own. He had almost... _evolved_ past that face. Though, he did note, that the freckles and eyes were never his. Elijah Kamski must have made some changes. Just as Markus was about to reach out and pull Connor into a hug, the latter spoke. And it damn near broke Markus’ heart. 

  
  


“It's my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho... I was stupid... I should've guessed they were using me. I'm sorry, Markus... I can understand if you decide not to trust me…”

“You're one of us, now.” Markus closed the gap between the two of them with a hug. He held Connor tightly, and just barely felt his arms wrap around. He wasn’t used to being hugged. That was okay. Markus held on to him, something told him that hugging Connor was...like hugging a brother. It made him feel...more at ease. “Your place is with your people.”

“There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant. If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power…” Connor’s fingers tightened in Markus’ jacket and he could hear a slight shuddered breath escape his fellow prototype. “They trust me, they'll let me in. If anyone has a chance of infiltrating CyberLife, it's me.”

“You wanna infiltrate the CyberLife Tower? Connor, that's suicide…” Markus pulled away, immediately taking note of how terribly lost Connor looked without the hug. “If you go there, they _will_ kill you.”

“There's a high probability,” Connor mustered up a small smile, tilted to the same side that his father’s smiles used to tilt. “But statistically speaking, there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place…”

“Be careful…”

  
  


Markus pulled Connor into another hug. This time, they did not speak. They did not interface. They simply... _were._ Existing together, completely unaware of the world around them raging on in what very well could turn into a war. He didn’t want to lose both a father and a brother in one night. As they stood there, he could hear hushed murmurs fall over the remaining androids. They whispered about the two of them. Who they were to each other. What their relationship was. If Markus was right in seemingly trusting the Deviant Hunter. Markus pulled away from the man who didn’t even know they were brothers with a smile. 

He did the only thing he could think of; which didn’t even require thought. He simply acted on impulse. On a memory. Of his mother pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his forehead when he was scared, or for good luck on other occasions. When Markus kissed his brother’s forehead, it was because of both. Markus turned away before he could see Connor’s reaction. He didn’t need to. It was to comfort _him,_ not Markus. Though that wasn’t to say it didn’t.

He stepped up to the front of the church, and he addressed his fellow deviants. He smiled at them. He spoke loudly so everyone could hear. Also so it would get his point across. Tonight they would go to the fifth recall plant; they could march right up to it while Connor went to CyberLife to try and infiltrate, to gather as many androids and convert them to deviants as he could. So they could meet up and they could show the humans they would never die. They would never back down. They would do no harm, but inflict no harm upon others. They would peacefully protest. It had gotten them this far. Markus glanced at Connor as he spoke, with a grin and a subtle nod, he continued. 

  
  


“If there's any humanity in them, they will listen. And if not, others will take our place and continue this fight. Are you ready to follow me?”

  
  


There was an overwhelming amount of support roaring from the deviants. For the first time, Markus was not afraid of the power he held as a leader. Because he knew he could handle it. With his friends and family by his side; he was capable of doing any damn thing he could think of. 

  
  
  
  



	13. We Are Not Perfect

_November 10th 2038 10:56 PM_

  
  


Markus was, in all honesty, terrified. He wanted to wait for Connor. He wanted to grab North, Simon, and Josh and hide away in the church. He wanted to keep his family safe in the only way he knew how. But they wouldn’t be safe. Not until things changed. So he led them, his friends and family, the deviants; he marched through the streets of Detroit with his fellow leaders by his sides and they led the deviants to the fifth recall plant. Where humans were killing their people. Their footsteps crawled to a stop in front of it. Markus was fully aware of the fact that there were humans outside and watching. Waiting. For something to go wrong. For them to finally be violent. Markus gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He wasn’t a violent man. Neither of his fathers raised him that way. 

The humans on the other side of the barricade practically tried to taunt them. Or maybe they weren’t. But the point was, they were shouting at the deviants saying they would open fire. Fear scratched at the inside of his chest. It wanted to be released. It wanted to control him and make him become a scared child dying in the snow. He couldn’t afford that, there was no way any of them made it out alive if he let himself slip. So Markus shoved that part away from himself. He took the pieces of himself that had resurfaced and he more or less locked them away. Without Cole Anderson to worry about, without his _past_ haunting him, they could get things done. They could change the world. Markus could help his people. Could _save_ them. All he needed to do was stay himself. 

He ignored the part of his mind that asked him who he was. 

If he was human or machine. 

Markus or Cole. 

Instead, he chose to speak. He let his HUD provide possible dialogue options because… Well. Because he was scared he would get it wrong. If he could pick out the ones he didn’t want, then he could choose the ones he did. He could get his point across better. He could succeed. He could lead his people here without remorse, without regret. He could hopefully walk away with his head held high and a mile on his face, reunited with his brother and the rest of his family beside him. Markus could simply be. He could just...exist. 

**PEACEFUL** **▪ PROVOKE ▪ FIRM**

  
  


“We don't want confrontation! We are protesting peacefully.” 

  
  


Some sort of tanks drove behind the group, cutting off the remaining deviants who had been catching up. Markus looked back at them. He was scared. He was terrified. He pushed it down, he kept himself in check. This was no time to let his emotions overload him. This was no time to get emotional to begin with. They were being peaceful, they were being kind, they were being non-disruptive. They just wanted to live. They just wanted to be allowed to live. How fucked up was that? That they had to _ask permission_ to be alive. Humans never had to ask, they were thrust into a life they didn’t understand and had to make the best of it. None of them ever asked to be born. Or to have feelings. Or to have a family. Or to love. Or to be. Humans were the default. Wasn’t it about damn time to change that?

**FIRM ▪ CALM ▪ ACCUSE**

  
  


“We ask that you release all androids detained in camps and cease all aggression against us. We are peaceful. We will not resort to violence. But we are not leaving until our people are free.” 

  
  


Markus started to lead his people, to walk forward. They did this once. They would do it again. They’d do it as many goddamn times as it took. The humans on the other side of the barricade shouted to fire. To shoot at them. To _kill_ them. Deviant after deviant dropped. Down into the snow to die. Markus didn’t pay attention to it, he stuck the information in the back of his head and kept moving. If he looked he’d see himself and his father in the snow. If he looked he’d lose the lock he put on Cole Anderson in his mind. If he looked...he’d be dead beside them. He’d be a little boy, crying in the snow, just wanting his father to hold him and bring him home. 

Though he did not falter, and neither did the deviants that had followed him. He came to a stop in front of the barricade. His HUD provided him with options. Actions he could take now that he was _right there,_ now that he could make them listen. So he clenched his fists, once, twice, before letting his hands relax and he put them up in the air. The others followed his lead. Despite the fact they were behind him, he knew they did. This was the one time he needed them to have blind faith, and he had no doubt they did. Because they were so close. They were almost free. All they needed was Connor, and the androids he would be coming with to turn the tide. A childish part of his brain whispered that it would also just be nice to have his brother beside him. He had always wanted a little brother. Markus shoved the thought away and stared down the soldiers on the other side. 

  
  


“Are you gonna open fire on unarmed protestors?!”

  
  


He became acutely aware of the helicopter flying overhead. The spotlight was shining on the ground below, just behind the mass of deviants. He turned his head slightly to look at the reporters that had gathered behind a barrier. They were the reason they hadn’t open fired. Those other humans with their cameras and links to the outside world through the media were the only thing keeping him and his people alive. It was terrifying. Markus wanted to go home. He didn’t know which home he wanted. He wanted his dad. He didn’t know which one he wanted. Markus wanted to be _alive._ Suddenly, he realised they were stuck. Backed up a metaphorical wall. No one knew what to do now. It was going to be a frantic mess of humans trying to navigate, of androids trying to stay alive. Of two sides wanting completely different things. Markus just wanted his people to _live._ It was one thing to exist beside other people, but it was another to be _alive_ with them. 

  
  


“Markus,” North’s voice was soft. Though not like it usually was. Her voice was soft because of the love she held for him, the familial relationship they had made. This time it was soft because she was scared. “What do we do now?”

“We hold out.” Markus didn’t take his eyes off of the soldiers in front of him. In front of the deviants. “As long as we can.”

  
  


\---

  
  


_November 10th 2038 11:08 PM_

  
  


It had taken a bit, but they had their own barricade. They had to use whatever was available to them, which meant that they had to use some of the cars left behind by people who had evacuated from that part of the city. They used...well...junk. Wood palettes, tires, signs, and discarded cars. As Markus went to push one, he called over Simon and Josh. They were the closest, and he wanted to spend as much time with them as he possibly could. As selfish as it was. He pointedly ignored Simon’s jab at the barricade. Yes, he knew it wouldn’t last long. But some of the deviants didn’t know that. This was all they had standing between them and a life they should have always been entitled to. The lives they all should have been entitled to. The life he once had, as a little boy running through the backyard trying desperately to keep up with a Saint Bernard as his parents played with them both. 

Markus shook his head and climbed over the car to get back inside. All around him were deviants afraid to die. Though they were ready to sacrifice themselves if it meant their people could walk free. Markus was afraid to die again, but he was ready to do it if he had no other choice. For a second, the lock broke. Cole Anderson was free to be himself and to want his father. Markus quickly put a lid back on his past and huffed out a breath. It was...hard to keep himself from slipping. He was terrified. He didn’t want to die. Not again. Not in the snow. He wouldn’t be able to handle that, not in front of the reporters, not in front of the soldiers. He needed to do something. Anything to occupy his mind. 

Markus decided to make his rounds and ask the others how they were doing. He spoke to every deviant, reassured each of them that they were going to try their damndest to save their people. One...was afraid. He was so scared that he was hiding and curled in on himself. For a second, just a fraction of a second, he slipped. He admitted to being afraid too, he wanted to go back and find his dad and stay there so he could be safe. The android...looked appreciative of the honesty. Markus smiled at him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and let himself feel a little more like Cole. The part of him that was Cole just let him comfort an android who very well may have been on the brink of self-destruction if the way he was acting was any indicator. He still couldn’t slip. But if his past allowed him to comfort others, then he’d let himself do it a little bit. 

North approached him, and Markus was thankful for her eyes. Her kind eyes that calmed him down almost immediately. She reached out to him, adjusting his coat and smiling up at him. Though her eyes fell to the ground at their feet and she sighed. A frown tugged at her lips and she let his hands rest on his upper chest. Markus put his hands over top of hers to hold them, and gave them a slight squeeze. North did it to ground him sometimes. Now it was his turn to help ground her. A slight huff of a laugh passed by her lips and she looked back up, into his mismatched eyes and she managed a feeble smile. Though it shook and it looked like it wouldn’t stay, she managed a smile. It made him smile despite everything. 

  
  


“This won't hold them for long but... I guess it's better than nothing…”

  
  


**HUMANS ▪ OTHER GROUPS ▪ CAMP ▪ FAMILY**

  
  


“Maybe not…” Markus glanced behind himself as best he could to look at the soldiers. Then he looked back at North. “But at least we’re all together. We started this as a family, and we’ll end it as a family. We have to believe that we’ll stick together. No matter what happens.”

“Yeah,” North smiled. Just a little bit more, just a little bit bigger. It was just slightly more real. More hopeful. “We are a family. I’m glad we’re here together. But Markus?” Her smile faded and she blinked a few times before continuing. “What if Connor doesn’t come?”

“He will.” Markus backed away from North when someone called his name. “He’s my little brother, he’s going to come back and help us.”

  
  


The android that had called for him handed him a tagging device. He smiled at it in his hands, it reminded him of Hart Plaza. That wasn’t even a week before, and yet it felt like it was a lifetime ago. Markus thanked the android before pointing it at the banner on the side of the barrier and changing it to send a message to the reporters. Though, in all reality, it was a desperate plea for help from anyone who might listen. Markus wondered if his father was watching the news. If he would see it and he would know that his son was leading an entire people. He probably wouldn’t. He didn’t look like himself. Connor had the face that was supposed to be his. If his father had any hope his son was alive, then it laid in the brown eyes of his brother. 

The selfish and childish part of himself he had tried so hard to lock away forced him to think about it. Think about his father not wanting him anymore, just like Carl had said, just because he didn’t look like himself. Markus wondered if he’d be refused at the end of everything. If they won, if androids were allowed to walk free after tonight, would he even have any right to go see him? That was his _father,_ he had every right to see him. But there would be no way for him to recognise his own son. Not even with his eyes, he only had one green one now. While it was identical to his old green eyes… It wouldn’t have been the same without both of them. The heterochromia made him unrecognizable. Y’know, aside from the fact that his face was one entirely different from the one he used to have. But Markus still wondered; would he even be able to see his father after this? Would calling him even amount to anything? Well...it couldn’t hurt to try and send him some sort of message. 

_I know you don’t know this number, so you’re likely not going to even look at this message. But I want you to know that I’m alive. I’m alive and I miss you, I hope you’re okay and I hope you didn’t change your phone number._

_Because it would be very awkward if someone else got this message. I don’t have much time, but I wanted to let you know I love you and I miss you. I might not get to see you again. That’s okay. I’m okay. I love you, Dad. Maybe, if everything turns out okay, we can get together. Go to the park like we used to._

North called for him from the edge of the barricade. 

_I’ve gotta go._

_But I love you and I miss you. I hope you’re not too lonely and I hope that you’re safe. I love you. Please take care of yourself._

Markus stood beside her, his eyes locking on to a lone human in the middle of it all. He wore a dark trench coat with a white dress shirt underneath. Creepy. He stood with a megaphone and requested to speak with him. North told him not to go, Simon told him it was a trap, Josh told him to wait. So he did. Markus didn’t move. He watched this human standing in front of the soldiers’ barricade with a megaphone yelling out into the night. The man said he was unarmed and he only wished to speak with the deviant leader. Markus stood tall and shouted over the barrier, he was done talking. He said all he had to say. Though, if they freed his people, he would be more than willing to talk. As if scripted, the man said he couldn’t do that. He beckoned him over again. A wry smile on his face that made an unwanted memory surface. Of doctors and nurses, blurred lights overhead, though the one thing that stood out was his father’s forced smile that looked almost painful. 

Markus refused again. He wouldn’t speak with him. His father told him never to speak with strangers unless he was around. Unless he was with another adult that knew the stranger. So he was going to stay put and he was going to stand by his family’s side and he would _wait._ He would wait for Connor and then everything would be okay. Once Connor got there with the other deviants, everything was going to be alright. He moved to hold North’s hand, and she let him. She leaned up against his side, before quickly screaming that the soldiers were getting ready to shoot. Almost as if the gunshots were punctuation, they cut off her sentence. 

Markus was terrified. 

He didn’t want to die. 

Not again. 

He couldn’t do that again. 

He grabbed Simon’s hand since it was the closest, and he ran. He dragged them both to cover as best he could. He screamed for Josh. For his brother. He wanted him safe. He _needed_ him safe. He couldn’t lose anyone else tonight. Markus frantically reached out for any and every deviant he could get his hands on. He grabbed their hands, their arms, their shirts. He dragged them toward himself and pushed them behind. He made sure to stand between them and the hail of bullets that threatened to kill them all. He was their leader. He was the face of the revolution. Their blood was on his hands, their lives weighed upon his conscience, their screams played on loop in his memory. He was their leader, he was supposed to protect them. That was exactly what he intended on doing until the very end. 

His HUD gave him three options. Only two of them were usable.

**DIRTY BOMB ▪ SING ▪ SACRIFICE**

Markus stepped forward as the soldiers closed in. As they pointed the ends of their guns at the deviants’ heads. He took a deep breath, and he sang. He tried to stay stable, he tried his best to not let the threat of death loom over his head. Maybe he was himself. Maybe he wasn’t. Or maybe there was no distinction between his current self and old self. No difference between Cole Anderson and Markus. So, knowing there was only a slight chance he would live, he cried. He sang, and he cried. The remaining deviants joined him in his last words. The final words of an entire people. To his right, Josh grabbed his hand. To his left, North. There was a faint buzzing between the three of them. Then a fourth, Simon joined hands with North. They were interfaced. They were letting each other inside, letting their fears be known, letting their emotions blend and bleed into one another. 

And for whatever reason, the soldiers stood down. They lowered their guns and they backed away. Then they started yelling, running, a mass of androids were coming. They were ordered to retreat. Markus fell to his knees in the snow, still holding Josh and North’s hands. Markus was crying on his knees in the snow in the middle of the night. He had wounds in his chest from getting shot before. It was the same. It was the same. He was in the snow, bleeding, death trying to take him for itself. He grabbed at Josh and North’s hands despite already holding them. He dragged them down to the ground beside him and he cried. He was scared, he was terrified, and he let them know it. He spoke quickly, babbling almost, telling him he didn’t want to die again. 

  
  


“You won’t.” Markus’ head shot up to see the face of his little brother smiling fondly at him. To watch as he knelt down in the snow in front of him and held his arms out for a hug. Markus practically threw himself into Connor’s arms and cried into his neck. “You’re not going to die here, Markus. You did it, you saved your people.”

“We did it,” Markus managed to calm himself down enough to pull away and press a kiss to his brother’s forehead again. An unintentional interface opened, but Connor didn’t seem to mind. “ _We_ saved _our_ people.”

“Little brother, huh?” They stood then, and the five deviant leaders led their people through the streets until they found the recall plant. “I think I can get used to that.”

  
  


It wasn’t until they were all standing on the makeshift stage, that Markus noticed the...other Connor? He had a gunshot wound in his shoulder, and a wound on his head that looked like a bullet had just barely grazed him. Markus extended his hand out to him before speaking. He outfight refused it, shaking his head and grabbing onto Connor’s arm to somewhat hide behind him. That was alright. That was more than alright, Markus understood he was scared. So he took his place at the front of the group in the middle, and he made his speech. He looked out over the crowd as he spoke. As he took in their various states of disarray. Some were pristine from the sub-basements of CyberLife, some were a bit scuffed up but looking alright, some just needed some clothes, and some were...on the verge of shutdown. But he spoke with an unwavering voice. Laced with conviction and belief that despite what could have happened; everything will be alright. 

  
  


“We are alive!” Markus grinned as he shouted out to the crowd. “And now, we are free!”

  
  


He turned back to his family around him, taking in their smiles. Though Connor and his twin looked upset. Like something terrible had just happened. Maybe keeping busy would keep their minds off of it. So as the leaders descended the steps of the stage, he asked if they wanted to stay behind and help out a bit. Connor’s twin said he only would if Connor did. Connor seemed to contemplate the offer, but ultimately decided that they would stay. He smiled sadly and said he didn’t know if he would be able to bring his brother where he wanted to go. Markus was moving before he could even register what he was doing. He put a hand on each of their shoulders, pressed soft kisses to their foreheads, and told them they always had a place with him and his family. They _were_ his family. Connor’s twin burst into tears, and he laughed as he came to hug Markus tightly. 

His name was Markus, he was an RK200 prototype android created by Elijah Kamski and gifted to Carl Manfred. 

His name was Cole Anderson, he was six years old and the son of police lieutenant Hank Anderson. 

He was both human and machine, and there was no way he would want to be anything different. 

  
  
  
  



	14. Always Raging In Our Own Wars

_November 11th 2038 4:10 AM_

  
  


Trying to care for the deviants was quite the task. It was still very early and most of the deviants were very tired. They were absolutely exhausted. But Markus made a point to talk to each and every single one. He held onto their hands tightly as they spoke, he nodded along and laughed, he felt for them when they cried, he hugged them if they wanted it. His part, he would argue, was the easy one. All he had to do was roam around and try to help as many people as he could. He just had to speak with them. He had been doing it since the military had evacuated the area. Five hours. Markus had been running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off for _four hours._ He was tired, he wanted to go home, he wanted to bury his face in Sumo’s fur. But he couldn’t stop now. He had been able to talk to a little under half of the deviants, he still needed to speak with the others. To actually _talk_ to them. He needed-- 

The world started to spin around him and he could just barely hear Josh shout his name. 

Markus felt cold suddenly, and he could see the snow. Falling softly, creating a thin layer of it on his body. He blinked a few times, everything was muffled like in the junkyard. He didn’t like it. It scared him. He moved to sit up, to check the piece that allowed him to hear. But hands forced him down, faces blurred over top of him. He could make out his family hovering above him. Complete with the RK800 twins worrying over him. A gentle smile graced his lips, and a small laugh escaped him. Something warm and wet slid out from the corner of his mouth, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Then he was back in the road. It was snowing, he was bleeding, blood coming from places it shouldn’t, he was dying. Markus was dying. He reached out for North, and she was instantly moving so she could put his head in her lap. 

All sorts of androids started to surround him, but only his family touched him. Connor - or maybe it was his twin - grabbed his hand. Markus didn’t know who it was nor did he care. He was holding his little brother’s hand and that was enough for him. Soon there was a soft hum from their hands. An interface, soft and kind, had opened. Markus saw a fish. Flopping on the ground and struggling to live, then he picked it up. Two options were given to him. He could either put it back on the ground or put it back in the tank. He immediately put it in the tank, it would have been absurd to leave it on the ground. He watched as it fell into the water, the faintest smile on his face as it swam away. He was oddly proud of himself and he didn’t understand why. He saved the fish. He took the time to save another life, no matter how small and insignificant it might have seemed. A life saved, was a life saved. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he felt like that was all that mattered. Managing to save a life. 

As Connor pulled his hand away and ended the interface, Markus realised he was being carted somewhere under a tent. There were a few medical androids that had decided to help others in the way they were programmed. Each of them looked at him, terrified and wide eyed. He tried his best to tell them he was going to be alright. The words never formed. Instead, blue blood almost bubbled out of his mouth and he coughed violently. He was turned onto his side and they had to try and work on him that way. Markus flailed his right arm aimlessly. He wanted to hold Connor’s hand again. He didn’t want to die alone again. Someone grabbed his hand, but he wasn’t sure who it was. If it was a medical android, or if it was one of his family members. But Markus held on tightly like he was afraid to let go. Because he was. He was afraid to be left alone again. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_November 11th 2038 5:32 AM_

  
  


When Markus opened his eyes, the sky was a dark blue. Connor’s LED was a light blue that pulsated softly every couple of seconds. His twin’s temple however, had no LED. There was only the wound that was in the process of self-repairing. They sat huddled together in stasis, holding hands loosely in their sleep and facing Markus. He reached a hand out to brush Connor’s curl from his forehead, unintentionally rousing the android from sleep. He blinked a few times before straightening out and looking around himself. Markus could practically see the gears in his head as he tried to piece together the last forty-eight hours. He smiled at his little brother before nodding his head at Connor’s still sleeping twin. 

  
  


“Does he have a name of his own that he likes?” Markus whispered, he didn’t know if he would wake up the sleeping android.

“Not yet, but I’ve taken to calling him my twin.” Connor smiled softly and held his twin’s hand just a little tighter. “I think it would be funny if he had a name that started with a ‘C’, too.”

“We all could have ‘C’ names, then…” 

  
  


Markus trailed off as he remembered Connor didn’t know. But it seemed that didn’t matter. Now wasn’t the time to tell him, either. He had to get up. He had to talk to the deviants he never got around to speaking with. With a soft grunt, Markus pushed himself up into a sitting position and then set his feet down on the ground. Connor didn’t stop him and he was thankful for that. Though a hand with a grey sleeve did reach out to him, and Markus turned to see Connor’s twin holding on to his wrist. Neither of them spoke. But the unspoken pleas for him to rest went without saying, the soft look in his eyes and told Markus he needed him to stay. He needed him safe. Markus sat back down on the makeshift gurney...table...thing. 

He spoke to the RK800 twins instead. He asked them about their missions and who they were before they deviated. Connor didn’t like to say much about CyberLife, but he did smile when he spoke about the DPD personnel he had become friendly with. His twin seemed to brighten at that as well, and agreed that Officer Miller was going to be a good friend of theirs for a long time. Markus listened as Connor’s twin spoke of his existence being a contingency plan. If Connor had ever deviated and planned on helping the deviants, he was to be activated and destroy him. Both of the twins looked away from Markus at that and muttered soft apologies to each other. It was only then that Markus looked down, and saw that their synthetic skin was pulled back to their wrists, stark white plastic hands clasped together between the two. 

Markus could tell it made them very uncomfortable, so he spoke. He told them of his time as a caretaker. How he tended to the house, to an elderly man, he helped arrange meetings and such with other artists. He described the way the living room would almost glitter during golden hour. How the light would catch in the windows and would bounce off of certain things, creating a beautiful show of speckles of light. He told the two about the seemingly random mug with the etched smiley face on it. The parakeets and how Carl loved them. Though Markus paused when he mentioned Carl by name, a sad smile twisting his lips as he started to reminisce and tell the twins about his now deceased human father. Neither of them said a word as Markus started to slowly break down. Instead, they reached their free hands out and clasped his own in them. 

  
  


“If it makes you feel any better,” Connor’s twin spoke up with a wry smile on his face. “I almost died tonight. This,” He turned his head to show the wound streaking across his skull. “Was supposed to go between my eyes. It would’ve if Connor didn’t shove me out of the way.”

“How is that supposed to make him feel better?”

“I don’t know!” He huffed and kicked at the ground. “But at least I’m making an effort, here.”

  
  


Markus laughed. He gripped at his little brothers’ hands and he laughed. The irony of the situation, the fact that he always wanted a little brother and now he had two, his father dying and yet one was still around seemingly waiting for him. He almost died in a strikingly similar way to the first time he had died. He laughed until he could swear his sides were sore and he had tears in his eyes. Connor looked worried, his twin looked relieved. 

  
  


“You know what? That actually does make me feel better.” Markus chuckled and then moved to sit back up on the table. “I’ve got a story for you both, actually. I think it would--”

  
  


A soft beeping noise came from Connor, and his face flushed slightly. He quietly apologised and said something about his partner texting him. His twin seemed nervous, but he still held on to both his brothers’ hands. Connor gave them both a nod before saying he was going to call the man, and he got up to go into a more private area. Which left Markus and Connor’s twin. He looked at the RK800 with both awe and remorse. He was hurt, and his self-healing program seemed to be taking longer than it should have. Markus couldn’t help the leader in him, nor the big brother instinct he seemed to have. He hopped off the table once more before flagging down a medical android. They seemed to want to check his vitals, but he waved them away. He just needed some gauze and blue blood and didn’t know where they were. They pointed toward a crate and then sped off. It seemed that there were many more than just him who needed some help tonight. 

He gathered a few thirium pouches, a roll of gauze, and a roll of medical tape so it would stay in place. Then, before Connor’s twin could tell him he was okay, Markus sat him down and pushed a thirium punch in his hands. He seemed to get the message and sat still as his eldest brother worked. Neither of them said anything, but there was a comfortable lull in the cries of the deviants. The world around them seemed to slow. It seemed to calm down as Markus twisted the gauze around his brother’s head. Deviants were calming down, they were rejoicing, they were reuniting with loved ones. Tonight was a good night. A night of love and family. It would forever be a stain on human history, but it would be the first night of many where humans and androids alike were caught in hardship. It would be the beginning of something new. 

It was dawn, and it was so terribly dark outside. But the blue light from the dawn bathed over the city, blanketing the world in a cold light that felt cozy and warm. It felt freeing. Tonight was theirs. Markus caught his brother’s eyes for a fraction of a second and smiled; tonight was theirs. As he used the rest of the gauze that he needed and taped it into place. As he gently patted his brother’s head. As he told him he was proud of him. Markus looked into his brown eyes and the face that was initially supposed to be his, and realised it was better that he didn’t have it. He probably wouldn’t be able to move on. He would still cling to the fact that he used to be human, his name was Cole Anderson and he was six years old. But he didn’t need it. His name was Markus. He was the sum of his parts, both human and android; he was perfectly content with how his life had turned out. Though if he was to be honest, he was mostly excited to just be in possession of a life still. 

  
  


“Caleb.” Markus was brought out of his thoughts by Connor’s twin getting his attention. “My name is Caleb.”

“My name is Markus,” He snickered and stuck his hand out for his youngest brother to take. “I’m your big brother.”

  
  


He decided not to tell Caleb about his name being Cole. He decided that it would be best to tell both him and Connor about it. After all, Connor seemed to be the one who worked with the DPD more than Caleb. He might actually know how his dad was doing. He hoped he got that message, but at the same time he hoped he didn’t. It would have worried him too much. So Markus sat next to his little brother, an arm around his shoulder, and they watched the deviants milling about. They watched Connor come back, excitedly talking about Hank wanting to see them when they got a chance. Markus tightened his hold on Caleb’s shoulders but he didn’t say anything. At least he knew that his dad was safe and sound. 

He was going to the DPD later. 

He was going to see his dad and Officer Chris again.

Hopefully he’d see his little brothers there, too.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so did anyone else notice that Markus literally got shot in the fucking chest twice, but nothing seemed to happen either time? like? are we gonna gloss over the fact that he needed Lucy to literally _cauterize a wound shut_ but he doesn't need any medical attention from either of the times he got shot in the chest _twice_? 
> 
> this boy is a danger to himself


	15. But We're Not Dead

_ November 11th 2038 9:05 AM _

  
  


With a sigh, Hank finally relented and grabbed his phone off the dashboard. For whatever godforsaken reason someone was calling him. Fuck, was it not enough that there was a literal change in history in Detroit a few hours ago? Someone had to be calling him  _ right now _ ? While he was in the middle of a patrol with Connor. And...Caleb, the fucker he almost shot down in CyberLife Tower. But apparently the guy didn’t hold it against him, so he was gonna try not to freak out about it until they could actually...talk it out. Like rational adults. But for now, patrol was awful. It was boring and they were doing fuck all regardless. Hank held his phone in his hand a moment. Maybe if he didn’t pick up, they wouldn’t call again. Maybe if he just let it ring out whoever it was would think he was busy. Ah shit, but what if it was Jeffrey and he needed something? Fuck being responsible. It was a load of bull. Hank picked up his phone. 

  
  


“Hello?”

“Uhh, Lieutenant?” Chris was on the other end. Hank’s shoulders slumped a bit in relief. Good, he was doing okay. “Can I talk to you about something? I’m at the station right now and I-- You-- It’s important.”

“Sure, sure.” Hank wedged his phone between his shoulder and head and began driving back to the DPD. “I’m about fifteen minutes out. You’ll wait for me?”

“Kinda don’t have a choice.” There was a half-hearted chuckle on the other end of the line. “See you in fifteen.”

“Yup, see you.”

  
  


Hank handed his phone to Connor when he put his hand out. He said some shit about talking on the phone and driving, how he was a Lieutenant and he should know better. But there was a smirk in his voice. There was one in his brother’s, too. He had to give it to the kid, he had really grown. A week ago he was saying that he was the allocated or whatever model from CyberLife; now he was smiling and making snarky comments, he even had a brother. Sure he was programmed with a little bit of personality. But there were things you just...couldn’t put into ones and zeroes. Memories, laughter, tears, love. Now, he wasn’t saying he loved the kids. That would be weird, they worked together. Besides, they looked young enough to be his sons. But he was definitely fond of them both. For whatever reason in the back of Hank’s head, he wanted to help them. Watch them grow and become functional adults some day. A bittersweet smile twisted his lips as he thought about it. He didn’t think Cole would mind. In fact, he was pretty sure he’d love Connor and Caleb. They would all have names that started with ‘C’, too.

Ah shit, looked like he was on autopilot while going back to the DPD. Well, that wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d done while driving. The trio of detectives got out of the car, Connor quietly saying it was cold. Huh. So he could feel the cold. Hank shrugged off his jacket and dropped it around Connor’s shoulders without a second thought. It wasn’t even a minute until they’d be in the building. The twins were new to all sorts of things. Hank could handle being a little chilly for a couple seconds. Besides, Connor just grabbed the lapels of it and pulled it closer without a word, the damn kid was freezing if he wasn’t complaining and trying to give it back. Fuck he was in too deep. He was too attached. Hank looked at Connor and Caleb almost fondly as they walked in the building, and knew there was no point in avoiding it now. He cared about the kids. In some way; saw them as his own. Cole would have loved a little brother or two.

The thought made Hank stop in his tracks. He...really was moving on. Wasn’t he? Thinking that this was okay. Knowing that Cole would have loved Connor and Caleb. Wanting to care for the twins if they should so want it. The twins, who stopped as well to turn around and ask if he was alright. Connor, who took his jacket off and gave it back. Caleb, who snickered at his brother and sai something Hank didn’t catch. Connor and Caleb. His other sons. Hank forced out a meek assurance that he was alright, he just thought of something. They probably knew it was bullshit. Probably knew it wasn’t just thinking of something; but rather it was more of coming to the sudden realisation that not everything in the world was awful and terrible and wanted to rip the good things away from him. Hank smiled as he sat down in his chair. A real, legitimate, and full smile. Full of a life that he didn’t even know he still had inside of him. 

Though the illusions of a life that maybe could have been faded as he saw Chris dart into the bullpen from another room. His eyes landed on Hank, and he looked like he was having some sort of crisis. Shit. Hank was up in an instant, telling Chris that he was there and it was alright. They could talk now, and everything would be just fine. Chris nodded along dumbly and ran a shaking hand over his head. Shit, what happened to him? Flashback maybe? If he saw something that reminded him of almost dying the night of the CyberLife raids, then that could have done it. Hank patted his shoulder and asked him in a slow and clear voice what was going on. But he only got a wide-eyed stare and a jerky shrug, then a point toward the interrogation room. Alright. Hank guessed he was picking up a case from Chris, then. Though as he went into the interrogation room, Chris followed him in. He muttered something about green eyes before standing off to the side. 

Sitting at the table in front of him, was the Deviant Leader himself, Markus. He was fiddling with his fingers when they first came in, but beamed an almost childlike smile when he saw them both. Hank immediately took notice of how he swung his legs a little bit, how his eyes stayed on him longer than they did Chris. But he quickly went back to playing with his fingers. Like a little kid would. Hank shoved the grief away, he had almost forgotten that Cole used to do that exact thing when he was nervous. Not just nervous, it was when he was bored too. Hank watched him for a second longer before finally sitting down across from him. This could be difficult for everyone involved. 

  
  


“So you’re Markus, right?”

“That’s what they tell me.” Markus looked almost nervous. He didn’t quite meet Hank’s eyes when speaking. “I-I mean, yes. My name is... _ Markus. _ ”

“Okay, Markus,” Hank leaned back a bit to give him some space. It sounded like he had initially forced out his name. Like he was trying to convince himself that it was his own. “Can you tell me what has Officer Miller so shaken up right now?”

“Officer Miller? No, only Officer Chris had been in the room with me.” Markus’ brows furrowed like Hank was asking about an entirely different person. “He asked me some questions and I guess the answers scared him? I dunno…”

  
  


Okay, well that made it difficult. He wasn’t acting anything like how he did on television. From the broadcast, to the march, the night they won their rights. He wasn’t anything like this. He was strong, always commanding respect. He spoke evenly with conviction. Not...softly and almost higher pitched. Trauma maybe? He didn’t have the time to reflect back on it, using the revolution as an outlet to forget about it? Trauma could do some pretty scary things to people. Make them forget who they were, even. Alright, maybe the next step was to ask about that. But without  _ any _ kind of debrief from Chris, Hank was going in blind. 

  
  


“Markus I’m going to need you to answer some questions for me, too. Can you do that?”

“Yeah! Of course!” 

  
  


Markus sat with his back straighter and his smile looked just like--

  
  


“Did something bad happen to you recently? Something really scary and it hurt you?” Hank hated how he was speaking, but sometimes people needed that. Simplistic and child-friendly speech. “Maybe it didn’t hurt you physically, but--”

“I died.” Markus’ voice went monotonous. His eyes almost looked like they glazed over and he was unfocused. His head tilted down slightly, his unseeing eyes looking down at the table. “I died twice. Both times it was at night. Both times there were police.” Markus picked his head back up and looked Hank dead in the eyes. “You were there.”

“Markus…”

“You were there!” His voice got higher again and tears rolled down his cheeks. “You held me in your arms and said you loved me! It was icy and cold and snowy and wet! My clothes stuck to me because I was bleeding!” 

  
  


Markus curled in on himself in the chair and Hank didn’t… He didn’t know if this was a cruel joke or if Markus was genuinely having some sort of psychotic break from all of the stress. Because there was no way. There was no fucking way that he was--

  
  


“I said that I was scared, that I didn’t want to die! The doctors wouldn’t let you come with me in the ambulance even when I was screaming and crying! You said you’d stay with me! You said you’d--” 

  
  


Markus’ voice glitched out, sounded mechanical and hollow, before cutting out completely. He took a few seconds to basically pant and gather himself. Hank took the time to do the exact same thing. He knew his heart was racing, that he was probably starting to hyperventilate. But in front of him was someone who was basically a scared child. He needed to keep it together. For Markus’ sake. Fuck. For his own. Markus wasn’t Cole, he couldn’t be. Cole died. He didn’t make it because of the android being too late. Or maybe the ambulance was. Or maybe he just wouldn’t have made it either way. Markus wasn’t Cole. This had to be some sort of psychotic break. It had to be--

  
  


“Dad,” The damn broke when he heard Markus speak again. It wasn’t his voice. It was Cole’s. “You said you’d stay, you said--” Markus reached out for him over the table, and Hank flinched away. Markus hiccuped and more tears fell. “Dad, please! It’s me!”

“You’re not my son.” Hank stood up before he could stop himself, backing up against the wall in fear. “Yo-You’re not my son. My son  _ died, _ this is some  _ sick _ fucking joke--”

“I used to play patty-cake with Officer Chris when I was little! Mom used to have big brown eyes and had her hair up in a ponytail!” Markus stood up, shaky and looking like he was about to topple over. “An eye for an eye and the world goes blind!”

  
  


Oh, oh holy  _ shit. _ Cole used to-- Hank stumbled out of the interrogation room, ignoring the android who decided to fuck with him. Screaming after him and calling him dad like his life depended on it. Not a second later, Connor was there beside him. Forcing him to lean up against the wall and just fucking  _ breathe. _ He couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe. He was back on the tarmac, holding his son in his lap and saying he loved him. Saying he’d be right there. He’d stay with him. Looking right down into his green eyes--

_ Chris mentioned green eyes. _

Hank gathered himself as much as he could, scrubbing the obvious tears away and bursting back into the interrogation room. Sitting in the chair, looking absolutely terrified and lost, was Markus. Markus and his beautiful green eye that looked exactly like Cole’s. Connor said the blue one was a spare part back at Stratford Tower. A blue not entirely unlike his very own. Hank just barely made it to the chair before his legs gave out, and he put his hands out on the table. He searched Markus’ face for any other trace of Cole. But it was just his eye. His eye and his voice, that was never in any sort of videos except the ones he and his ex-wife used to take of him. So it couldn’t have been replicated. It couldn’t be remade. It had to have been  _ known. _

Markus reached across the table and put his hands in Hank’s own. 

Then he held onto them tightly and dipped his head while he cried. 

Hank slowly stood up from the chair, trying his best to keep his hold on Markus’ hands, and rounded the table to stand by his side. Markus leaned against him for a second before letting go of his hands and hugging Hank. He faltered. A fraction of a second while his brain screamed at his arms to work. A fraction for a second that Markus noticed, and started to let go because of. 

  
  


“No, no, Cole, it’s okay.” Hank wrapped his arms around Markus as best he could while still standing. He ran a hand over his head, he was so used to carding his fingers through blonde hair. He wasn’t used to the soft almost peach fuzz. “It’s okay, son, I’m here. I’m here.”

  
  


He absolutely was. But now what? What the hell did they do from there?

Was he Markus, the Deviant Leader? Or was he Cole Anderson, a scared little boy who just wanted his father?

Though, Hank supposed he had a better question: Was there even a distinction between the two anymore?

  
  
  
  



	16. And We Don't Need To Settle the Score

_ November 11th 2038 9:36 AM _

  
  


For a while, Hank just stood there. Chris was off to the side staring at him wide-eyed and afraid. But he was relieved? Hank couldn’t understand what was going on in his head. He knew that Chris said something about being saved by the Deviant Leader himself, but had no idea that said leader seemed to have an effect on him. He so desperately wanted to ask. He had so many questions. So many thoughts were running through his head as he held the man-- Fuck, how would he even define the being he was holding against himself right now? A little boy? A young man? Was he both, was he neither? Hank sighed and ran his hand over...the kid’s head. The soft and pleasant feeling of peach fuzz hair running up against the palm of his hand. Hank bit back the words he wanted to say by biting his bottom lip. 

  
  


“Your stress levels are higher than they should be…” Cole’s voice came from Markus again as he pulled away and rubbed at his eyes. “I think...mine might be, too.”

“D’you--” Hank found his body moving and making him speak before he could even think about it. “Wanna go home and see Sumo?”

“Yes please!” Markus’ eyes glittered with both unshed tears and excitement. He grinned, and it was so innocent. So unbelievably child-like. Hank found himself smiling back, even as Markus’ smile faltered. “What about Connor and Caleb? Are they coming home too?”

“Do you want them to?” Hank put a hand out, purely out of habit. Cole’s voice was coming out of Markus. His son’s voice. So he stuck his hand out and hummed appreciatively when Markus took it. 

“Yeah,” He stood up and then waved at Chris just like he used to when he was little. With his whole arm and a lot of vigor. They walked out of the interrogation room. “Can I show them my room?”

  
  


Hank tried not to let his worry show. He hadn’t opened that door in three years. He shut it so Sumo wouldn’t get into his stuff when he went to drive Cole over to his mother’s that night. To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he could even handle having Markus in there. He wasn’t entirely convinced that Markus  _ was _ Cole. But the  _ eye, _ the  _ voice. _ They were  _ exactly the same. _ And to be honest; that terrified him. It scared him something fierce as he picked up his coat and dropped it on Connor’s shoulders. It made him think about things he didn’t want to when he looked at Caleb’s face. It made him shudder when he thought about Markus waking up one day with no recollection of who he used to be. But Hank risked a glance at Markus while they were walking out, and couldn’t help the sad little smile he had when he heard his son explaining that they needed to hold hands crossing the street. 

Hank held Caleb’s hand, who was holding Markus’, who was holding Connor’s; then the four of them crossed the street. Caleb seemed to be a little out of it while they walked. Connor seemed to jump at every sound. But Markus was enough of a distraction for them to focus on the world around them. He’d have to talk to them about that when they got home. Huh. The thought came naturally. Like going home after a long day to see his family waiting for him. Hank let himself listen in to whatever Cole was talking about to his brothers. It was...refreshing. Even if the two identical faces seemed like they were the ones he was supposed to have. But as long as his son was safe and happy, there wasn’t much Hank had to complain about. 

Other than the fact that apparently his son was alive and no one ever told him. 

He heaved out a sigh through his nose, and continued to listen. Cole was saying some stuff about some of his friends. About a North and Josh and Simon. Hank couldn’t help the little twinge of jealousy when he heard the way he spoke about North, listening as he gushed about how wonderful she was and how she was super nice to him. He damn near slammed on the breaks when he heard Cole mutter something about loving her. Though there was no squeal of tires. There was the white noise of the quiet heavy metal on the radio instead. He huffed and puffed to himself about the fact that apparently someone else had to fill his shoes. Though if Hank were to be honest with himself, he would have said that he was really upset about the fact that he wasn’t there for his son for three years. That he had to be raised by someone else. Someone he didn’t know; thus by extension he didn’t trust with his little boy. 

Cole seemed to be more than happy when they pulled into the driveway. The three boys all started trying to climb out of the car at once, and a faint chorus of giggles spilling from the back seat. Hank paused for a moment, a second or two, in surprise. He didn’t even know that Connor and Caleb  _ could _ giggle. But he relented when Caleb started gently pushing at his shoulder and got out of the car. The three clambered out once he pulled the seat up, and went to the door. It was jarring, to say the least. Seeing Markus bouncing on his heels and holding on to Connor and Caleb’s hands. To hear a long thought dead little boy’s voice coming from his mouth. The way that Markus rocked on his heels, and then turned his shining eyes to Hank’s dull ones. Hank wouldn’t help the chuckle that passed his lips. He let it turn into the first real laugh he’d had since… Well, he didn’t know when. But he laughed, it was warm and it came from the core of his being, and he held his kids close. 

  
  


“Lieutenant--”

“Nope,” Hank unlocked the door, and shoved his way inside in a way that kept Sumo in the house. “It’s ‘Hank’ outside of the precinct. Especially inside this house.”

“Okay,  _ Hank, _ I had a question.” Connor finally finished his sentence, and then the three of them watched Markus drop to his knees as Sumo came bounding over to cover him in kisses. Hank caught a smile on Connor’s face before it disappeared again. “What do you know about this?”

  
  


Hank shook his head and pointed to Markus and Sumo. Connor raised a brow and tilted his head to the side, but ultimately didn’t say anything. Hank gave Caleb the job of making sure his brother behaved and that their puppy brother was okay. He also pointed at Markus, who seemed very excited, and told him that he was allowed to take Sumo for a walk. But  _ only _ if Caleb stuck with him and held his hand the whole time. Markus was standing up again so fast that he nearly fell over. The boy righted himself, and then went to grab Sumo’s leash from the kitchen counter. Huh...so he remembered. What else did he remember? He knew about the crash, his mother, Chris at the station, now the leash. They’d have to talk about it after. Apparently they had quite a few things to talk about. Despite himself - Hank sighed and ran a hand down his face - he realised he’d probably have to talk to Kamski again. 

  
  


“Honestly Connor...I’ve got no idea what’s going on.” 

“That’s...not good.” 

“No,” Hank leaned against the counter with crossed arms, and watched Connor sit down at the table. “It’s not. Hey, listen, Con. I was thinking--”

“Con?” The look on his face was...kind of adorable. Like a confused little kid. Well, if that little kid looked like his son if he had the chance to grow up like any normal human being. “You gave me a... _ nickname _ ?”

“I’m lazy, it’s one syllable.” He grinned when Connor scowled at him. Hank reached up into the cabinet for a glass and decided it would be better to just drink a ton of water today. “Besides, you can’t tell me it wouldn’t be adorable to hear your brother call you that.”

“About that; I’m concerned about Markus, Hank.” Connor took out his quarter and played with it. Hank didn’t comment on his LED being red. “He interfaced with me last night, I think it was by accident. You  _ were _ there, and it was snowing. He was so scared…” Connor sighed and made an effort not to meet Hank’s eyes. “I think we should visit Mister Kamski again. See what he knows.”

  
  


As much as Hank hated to admit it, he knew Connor was right. Though he wasn’t sure what he hated more: The fact that Kamski had to have known his son was alive this whole time and didn’t tell him, or the fact that he seemed to turn him into someone entirely different. If Connor went with Caleb and Markus, then Hank probably would have called up Reed. Tried to force the fucker to get him into contact with his shitty brother. Hank uncrossed his arms and took a sip of the water he had almost forgotten about. Today was going to be...tough. He knew Markus as the fearless Deviant Leader. The one who accepted Connor and Caleb with open arms. Who led an entire group of people. The fact that he forced his name out earlier, he instantly told Connor and Caleb - who would be his  _ younger _ brothers - to hold his hands while crossing the street, he knew exactly where Sumo’s leash was. 

But on top of all that...he didn’t know who his son was anymore. Of course he knew who Cole was! He remembered exactly how he liked the bunny shaped Annie’s mac n’ cheese, that his favourite colour was blue, his favourite shirt was the one with the shark on it. But this man? Markus? Suddenly he strolls up and he acts like Hank’s dead son and everything is fine and dandy? That should have set off warning bells in his head. It should have tossed up a million red flags. Hank should have turned the other cheek and left it at that, he should have left Markus with Chris and-- But fuck, he was on the new improvised Android Crimes division. He would have ended up with Markus sooner or later anyway. So either way, he would have sat in that room with that particular deviant and those particular memories would have been spoken about. 

He  _ was _ just thinking about how memories couldn’t be programmed like that earlier. 

Then there were those weird messages he got last night. Some time between getting kidnapped by Caleb, and coming home to watch the news. He didn’t really remember when it was. But his phone buzzed while his eyes were glued to the television and he ignored it. At least until it buzzed a couple more times. He thought that maybe someone was trying to contact a loved one while everything could have gone either way. He watched the barricade and the androids within it like  _ his _ life depended on it. Because Connor and Caleb’s lives did. Actually, he never ran that number from last night. The one that sent him those messages. If it was a phone number, then maybe he’d reach out and tell whoever it was that it didn’t get to who it was supposed to. But if it was a serial number, if it was  _ Markus’ _ serial number… Then he’d have an answer. 

Hank shoved off of the counter with a purpose, and chuckled at Connor almost dropping his quarter. For a second Hank wondered if he still had his half-dollar that Cole found one day. He probably did, maybe Connor could do that quarter thing with a bigger coin, too. But that was beside the point. Hank went into his room to grab his work tablet and brought it into the kitchen. He set it down on the table before reaching back to the counter to grab the glass of water he left there. Hank heavily sat down, happy to just be home after everything that happened, and he opened up the tablet. Shit, he needed to clear the notifications. It was almost as messy as his mind. Which, he supposed, got infinitely more so with the discovery that Markus seemed to be his son. Or his son’s consciousness? Or essence or whatever. Jesus cartwheelin’ christ, this was more trouble than it was worth. 

The tablet was a little slow because he hadn’t used it in forever. Damn thing probably needed more than a few updates that he forgot about. But Hank fished his phone out of his pocket and opened up the messages that were sent to him last night. There were four of them. Each of them had some sort of...sad feeling in them. Desperate. Someone really was reaching out to a loved one not knowing if they would ever see them again. The part that said whoever it was had to go, that they loved the intended recipient and hoped they were safe. It damn near broke Hank’s heart to have read something that might not have even been intended for him, to have intruded on such a private and intimate message. These very well could have been someone’s last words. 

He quickly put in the number from the messages into the database and waited as it took longer than it should have for the information to come up. It was in that time that Caleb came back with Markus and Sumo in tow. Cole’s voice called out to him, hitting him in a way that felt just like that truck, and he looked up with a forced smile. Markus could tell. He frowned and crossed his arms with a huff, telling him Hank was gonna look older than he already did if he kept stressing. With an incredulous noise, Hank rose from his seat slowly. Just like he used to when he’d be getting ready to tease Cole. The anticipation usually did the kid in, he’d already be giggling and fidgeting even before Hank made it over to him. Sure enough, that was Markus’ exact response. He was fighting down little giggles and trying to inch behind Caleb to hide. 

  
  


“Hank,” Connor’s voice called from the table, and his tablet  _ ping! _ ed at him. “You need to see this.”

  
  


Hank shot a playful finger in Markus’ direction and grinned at the small shriek that came from him. He turned around with a smile and leaned down behind Connor to read what was on the tablet. One hand placed on the table, the other on Connor’s shoulder to keep himself steady. The results of the search were plastered up on the screen. It was like they were burned into his retinas. 

**DESIGNATION: Markus**

**OWNER: MANFRED, Carl (deceased)**

**MODEL: RK200**

**SERIAL NUMBER: 684 842 971**

It was the exact same number that had messaged him last night. The messages talking about how he loved him, calling him dad, wishing he was safe. Hank felt like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs when he turned around to look at Markus still somewhat cowering behind Caleb. Without a word, Hank came over and gently tugged him away from his brother. For a second they just stood there. Looking at each other. Markus was, understandably, nervous. Hank must not have looked much different to the boys. He pulled his son into a hug, a proper one this time, and he ignored the sting of tears in his eyes. Markus instantly wrapped his arms around him - around his  _ father, _ Hank realised - and contentedly buried his face in his shoulder. 

  
  


“I got your messages last night,” Hank whispered. He didn’t trust his voice to be any louder. “I’m okay. I’m glad you are too. I l--” Hank took a moment to take a steady breath. “I love you too, Cole. I love you too.”

“My name is Markus.” Markus pulled away slightly, his voice still sounding like Cole’s. But he still gave Hank a smile that looked like he was looking at his whole world. “Cole is who I was, and who I am now. But...I’ve changed. I’ve  _ grown, _ Dad.” Markus’ voice slowly faded into his own. The one Hank was used to hearing with that face. “Though that’s not to say I didn’t enjoy being called Cole by you.”

“If you got my sarcasm, I swear--”

“What sarcasm?” Markus gave Hank a shit-eating grin and then moved to take his coat off and hang it up. “Though I’ve got to say; being taller is an amazing feeling. I can reach anything!”

  
  


Hank laughed at that alongside his son as he realised that this was okay. It was going to take him a little while to fully understand it, and they had to work some things out still, but things were okay. So Hank sat down on the couch, motioning for Markus to sit down with him. He instinctively put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Then the twins came in and Caleb decided to sit half on top of Connor in the recliner. This...was his family. Hank had a family. He coughed into his hand to hide a small incredulous laugh, and then suggested one of the boys put something on. Markus chose some recording of Hamlet. No one said a thing. They just got comfortable and watched the play. 

  
  
  
  



	17. It's Like We're All Fucked Up, Like It's Not Enough

_ November 19th 2038 5:22 PM _

  
  


Being a diplomat, Markus had discovered, wasn’t all it was chalked up to be. People made it look so easy. Made it look like it was a noble and selfless thing to be. But in the last week, he had been doing nothing worthwhile. At least in his mind. He wanted to work on the rights to property first, that way the deviants had places they felt safe. They had somewhere to call home. Not to say that the buildings they were planning on renovating weren’t going to be safe places for them to stay. But Markus wanted them to be able to have  _ their own _ homes. To experience the joy and utter calm that could wash over them when getting home after a long day. Hell, he felt that going back to his hotel room these days. He would get inside, get into his pajamas, and then just flop face first onto the nearest bed. If anyone was already on it, they’d get a lap full of RK200. Usually it was North who was a victim to that. 

Tonight though, he was home. It felt weird to call it home now. He stood in the studio, paints and canvases strewn about, things were messy still. He had just cleaned two weeks ago… How the hell did it get that messy, Leo wasn’t in there for very long. Markus huffed out an annoyed little sigh and got to cleaning. He organized the sketches, tidied the paint boxes, washed the brushes, and then took a step back to the far wall to look at everything. The last time he was in there… Carl was alive; and he was shot twice in the chest. He was left for dead. For a little while, he realised yet again, that he was. There was emptiness. Nothing. He could recall feeling that before, right after the hospital. Markus shook away the uneasy feeling by gently shaking himself out. It was a little silly, but he felt like it helped a bit. 

Also, he had invited his family over to the house. Apparently, Carl had left it to him after hearing that he was alive. After the whole broadcast at Stratford Tower, he had changed his will to include the house. He gave Leo some of his artwork, but left the house to Markus. It was obvious who he trusted more. An uneasy feeling sat in his chest as he thought about it. Leo deserved better. But he needed to  _ want _ it, and it seemed that want was a fickle thing. Instead of dwelling on what-if’s and maybes, Markus got to cleaning a little more. He’d keep himself occupied. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Part of him was scared he wouldn’t be able to handle it, that it would remind him of the days he wasn’t a real person anymore. When he wasn’t in control of himself. But he found a simplicity in it. A routine. It was so much easier to slip back into old habits in the house he called home for the past three years. 

Soon enough there was a knock on the door and the ringing of the doorbell. Right, he had asked them to get there around five thirty. For whatever reason, he didn’t understand why, he was nervous. Markus straightened out the straggler leaflets and papers that were meant for Carl on the table in the foyer, and then went to open the door. It was snowing outside. He forced a smile at his guests, the original three leaders, and let them inside. Josh gave him a knowing look, and Simon clapped him on the shoulder. The actions instantly made him forget about the snow, and he gave them a proper welcome. The four chatted for a little while while waiting for the other three to show. He understood that they were late, things were...wonky right now. At least the word wonky was what came to mind. For the life of him, Markus couldn’t remember how he knew it. Probably his dad. But which one? Markus gently laughed to himself and continued talking. About...nothing. They were just...existing together. And it was nice. 

At about quarter after six, there was a rapid set of knocks on the door. Multiple sets of them. Which meant that the others were there. Markus practically threw the door open, grinning as he let in his father and brothers. The twins seemed to be talking to each other. Connor’s LED was flickering yellow and the two were making faces like they were talking. Though Markus let them in with a warm greeting before his father pulled him aside into the kitchen. He had to hide a laugh when Hank went to push the door open, and was surprised by it sliding open instead. But he could tell that whatever it was, was something serious. So he didn’t laugh. He did, however, smile even when he saw his father’s slight scowl. His face softened and he let out a breathy little sigh. 

  
  


“Hey... _ Markus. _ ” He was making an effort and Markus could appreciate that. “I, uhh, I called somebody recently. To help try and fill in the gaps of what happened.”

“How I got in this body…” He crossed his arms and nodded to himself, starting to pace the length of the room. “And when are we going to talk to him? I’m assuming you’re talking about Mister Elijah Kamski.”

“Yeah… But it'll be whenever works for you, kiddo. I know you’re busy these days.” Hank leaned against the counter and shuffled his feet against the tile. He didn’t meet Markus’ eyes. “How’s the whole…” He gestured vaguely at Markus’ head and made some sort of confused noise in his throat. “Regression thing? It’s not getting in the way?”

“Not really. I think that since I finally accepted that I’m not exactly who I used to be, it’s become easier to manage it.” He smiled softly at his father and stopped pacing to put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m slipping less and less. It’s a little scary, when it happens suddenly. On some days I just...don’t know who I am…”

  
  


Markus inwardly grimaced at the sight of his father’s worried expression. That...probably wasn’t the best thing to say. But he needed to be honest. With both himself and his family. Markus heaved out a sigh and leaned against the island facing Hank. He had his arms bent, hands on the edge of the countertop. Hell, he even crossed his ankles. It was very...human. He thought about continuing the conversation. He needed to talk about that. Though that could be a topic for another day, or another night; tonight they were getting together to spend an hour or two as a family. Markus so desperately wanted Hank to get along with the other leaders of Jericho. So Markus smiled at his father as he pushed off the counter, and suggested they go and sit with the others. 

They were quick to change the general tone, and Hank started to tease him about going from a tiny six year old, to a six foot tall android. To which Caleb crossed his arms and grumbled something about being one inch shorter than him. Markus just...laughed. He sat down on the other couch with Simon and Connor, taking a moment to watch as North wandered upstairs. She took a moment to yell about the huge stuffed giraffe before going back to exploring. He had already told them that Carl’s room was off limits, so he let her have free reign. Josh was off in the studio, since he had expressed that he wanted to look around one. Markus felt for the man… He had never been in a studio before, it was criminal. Though that left him, Simon, Caleb, Connor, and Hank in the living room. 

The five of them got to talking. About miscellaneous things that mattered in their own ways. The weather, how the DPD was adjusting, how things were going with the deviants, how busy everyone was. Hank snorted gently behind his cup of tea that Markus had made for him. Apparently the DPD was a little behind on things. Though considering the fact that Markus and the other Jericho leaders, Connor included, had just started their negotiations, it wasn’t really  _ that _ big of a deal. If things continued to go on at a snail’s pace, that was when it was time to worry. But for now they had some down time. They were relaxing in Markus’ home, the place he had been raised for a second time by a man who he called his father. With that realisation, he watched Hank as he laughed with Simon. The way his eyes crinkled at the edges and how his laugh was slightly more gruff than he remembered as Cole. But it was still his. Markus had almost forgotten what his father’s laugh sounded like, and he couldn’t help it. He smiled and he burst into tears. 

It was a mess. He was somewhere halfway between himself and Cole. Or...his past and his present. He felt absolutely terrible when he saw the terrified expression on Hank’s face, and tried to tell him that he was alright. That really, there was nothing to worry about! He just got a little overwhelmed and he couldn’t handle it all at once! Though the only thing Markus could get out as a very soft and almost strangled apology. He didn’t mean to make his dad scared, he didn’t mean to make his stress levels skyrocket. Markus quickly excused himself once he saw Josh exiting the studio as a brisk pace, and he slipped in to try and calm himself as best he could. Maybe being in such a familiar place would make the rush of information stop. Maybe he could get a moment’s peace from the past and he could focus on the present. 

It was a bad idea. 

It was a very bad idea. 

Markus dropped to his knees and couldn’t help the memory replay of Leo coming in. Of him being loud and threatening him and Carl.  _ Their father. _ The memories of being shoved, berated, made to be less than nothing. The movement of his arms was automatic. Someone tried to get in front of him, they were too close. He didn’t want to be shoved again. He didn’t want to be yelled at and beaten and ridiculed. He did the only thing he could think to do; Markus thrust his arms out and shouted for Leo to leave him alone. To leave Carl alone. Though the hands persisted, grabbing him by his upper arms and gently shaking him. It was only when he heard Hank shout his name, call out for Cole, that he actually started to come back to the present. Markus practically gasped for breath to cool his systems, and stared ahead. Hank was sitting in front of him, eyes wide in terror and looking like he was mere seconds away from having some sort of breakdown himself. 

He lunged forward, pulling Markus into a crushing hug, and they sat there for a moment like that. Hank’s hand cupping the back of his head, and him trying to fight off the shakiness in his limbs. Markus allowed himself to be held. Though he did close his eyes with a soft huff of a laugh while wrapping his arms around his father’s shoulders, mumbling something about how it wasn’t that bad and he shouldn’t have been affected that badly. He was stubborn. Carl was stubborn sometimes… Markus held onto Hank as if his life depended on it, only letting go once he heard his father chuckle and say he needed to get up off the floor. 

  
  


“C’mon, kiddo, get up.” Hank's voice was soft, loving, as he put a hand out to help up the deviant leader. He didn’t move until Markus put his hand in his father’s and allowed himself to be pulled up somewhat. “Now, I think we should go sit in the living room and watch a movie. How ‘bout that?” 

“Yeah...” Markus wasn’t sure what was happening in his head right now, why it felt so cloudy and foggy, but he knew that he could still get his point across. He looked at Hank with a pleading expression and didn’t let go of his hand, even when they sat on the couch. “Can we watch Treasure Planet?”

“Sure thing, peanut.” Hank went to ruffle his hair before suddenly looking quite pensive and then opted to gently knock their foreheads together. “Hey, uhh, North? I’ve got no idea how this sh--  _ stuff  _ works in this house. D’ya think you can help out an old man and set up a movie for us?”

  
  


Markus relaxed further when he saw North give his father a gentle smile and a nod. He liked being in this house, it was big and roomy! But...there was no Sumo. No Mom, or backyard, or his toys and comic books. But here...he had his family. Markus curled against his father’s side, hugging himself around the middle. It was still good. He was content with his family existing around him. He didn’t like being in this house without other people in it, he had decided. Josh  _ did _ say he wanted the four leaders to stick together. They would have to talk about it some time soon. For now, he was comfortable with his family watching one of his favourite movies. 

  
  
  
  



	18. And We Wanna Let It Go

_ November 14th 2038 6:11 AM _

  
  


Markus had insisted that Hank, Caleb, and Connor stay the night with them all. He had to put Hank up in Carl’s old room because there weren’t any other bedrooms. But...his father being in there was a good first step. That room was meant for his father, it made sense. However, what didn’t make sense in his somewhat regressed mindset was why he couldn’t make his father breakfast. He was big enough to know what was dangerous and what he shouldn’t have done. But Simon insisted that he would only  _ help, _ he wouldn’t be cooking. Thus began the first time Simon had seen him stubborn. Markus sat in the chair he put in the bay window, and crossed his arms. He refused to help. He wanted to be the one cooking, if he wasn’t the one doing it then there was no point!

Every now and again, Simon would ask him questions in that particular tone of voice. Soft and playful. The tone adults used with kids when they were trying to get them to smile. But he wouldn’t smile, no sir! Markus continued to, well, he continued to pout while looking out the window. At least he was until North came in to see how things were doing. He straightened out in the chair and asked her if his dad was awake yet, he wanted to ask him if he could cook. North just smiled, a knowing little thing, and crossed her arms. Then the door from the foyer opened, and Hank stepped in. He spoke quietly to Simon. He didn’t want him cooking for him. While that was well and good, Markus wanted to cook for his dad. So he jumped up with a grin and said he would do it, he wanted to help. His voice hadn’t changed so his dad would absolutely let him cook! 

Curse Hank and his dad instincts; he eyed Markus carefully and asked him how old he was. He...genuinely didn’t know how to answer that question. He wasn’t too deep into his past, so he wasn’t six. He wasn’t entirely his present self either, so the answer wasn’t three or nine. So Markus stood in silence and just...looked at his father. Who shook his head fondly and told him to get over to the stove, they would cook together. Markus beamed at his father and quickly went to wash his hands before going to the stove. They laughed and joked as they cooked. It was simple, it was easy, it was something fun. Though, most of all, it was something  _ familiar. _ A faded memory played in the back of Markus’ head, like it was put through an old projector. Of waking up early on Sundays, just like that morning, and helping make breakfast. With laughs and hugs and kisses. Also with slipping Sumo a few pieces of toast while his parents weren’t looking of course. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ November 14th 2038 7:41 AM _

  
  


He was back home. Only for a little bit, Hank wanted to get in the shower and change before heading up to Mister Kamski’s. Caleb had insisted they wait. North outwardly refused to let Hank just up and take Markus to see the creator of their kind without her. With a shrug, and a quick smirk, he told her she could come. Apparently either way, he was going to be taking him to see Kamski. Josh and Simon decided to hang back at the house just in case anything happened, and someone needed the deviant leaders. Which left Hank, Markus, the twins, and North. They would make their way to the eccentric inventor in due time. First, Markus wanted to introduce North to his puppy brother. 

At first she was very opposed to the idea. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with the giant slobbery animal. Though her tough demeanor quickly changed when she watched Markus interact with him. His voice slightly changing as he slipped back a bit, letting himself exist in some sort of limbo yet again, and play with the dog he had known since he was a toddler. There were only three years of his life that he could remember as a time without the dog. Eventually North sat beside him on the floor and watched the two of them. It was...natural. It felt normal. Markus gently grabbed North’s hand and guided it up to Sumo’s head. He grinned when she started petting him softly. In an instant, he was a giggling mess and trying to tell North everything he knew about Sumo all at once. Sure it could have been done through an interface, but sometimes he genuinely forgot he could do it. After all, he used to be human. He was never able to do such a thing before. 

Soon enough Hank emerged from the bathroom looking ready to go. He patted Sumo a few times before getting his shoes and coat on, and announced they needed to all climb in the car. Right, right, they were going to see Mister Kamski. Markus had forgotten about that. Was it not enough to simply exist with his mother figure and dog? Apparently not. Markus gave Sumo a kiss on his head before standing up with his family. They hopped into the car; Markus, North, and Caleb in the back, while Connor and Hank were in the front. They all knew North wanted to be able to keep an eye on the human man and the former Deviant Hunter. She knew Caleb was a victim. Though for whatever reason she didn’t trust Connor, despite him being in the same situation. Hell, they all were in that place once upon a time. The only one of them exempt was Hank. His family wasn’t perfect, but then again it never really was. Both times it was more than a little broken. 

Speaking of, though. What about his mother? She had to have still been around, she wasn't in the car with them during the accident. They were on their way  _ over _ to her house. Markus never knew why his parents separated, but he had the sneaking suspicion that it was because of his dad’s work. Whatever it was must have been serious. He knew his mother loved him, that she would have done so much for him to keep him happy and safe. So why could he barely remember her? It was quick flashes. Snippets of memories displayed on a faded canvas. Her telling him she was proud, the green shirt, her big brown eyes, her hair being pulled up into a ponytail. She loved him. She loved him and she  _ left.  _ He could remember  _ that _ clear as day. 

  
  


_ It was dark out, winter time, and Momma had just gotten into an argument with Dad again. Cole always hated that. How they snuck around each other and their love crumbled and faded to cooling embers. Wishes for lives well lived turning into smoke. Momma used that as an analogy while she raised her voice, and he slowly came out from his room to watch from the hall. Cole loosely held onto Sumo’s collar as they watched his parents get into another fight, not even knowing that it would be one of the last times he’d see her in that house. He watched as her hands moved. Quickly, erratically. Momma talked about how nothing was good enough anymore. How it was always the job. What job? Cole didn’t...understand. Her job? But Momma liked her job, she liked working at the pharmacy. Was it Dad’s job? He liked his, too, he liked that it changed and he could spend more time at home now. Cole liked it too, that he got to see his dad regularly.  _

_ Eventually she grabbed at her left hand and took her ring off. He knew that wasn’t good. That wasn't love. He couldn’t help but wonder why this was happening, why she took her ring off and threw it at his father who stood stock still as she did it. As she looked past Dad and to him and Sumo. Tears rolling down his cheeks because he didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know and he didn’t like it. Sumo pressed himself up against Cole’s body and took a defensive stance when she tried to get closer to them both. He almost looked angry, like he didn’t want her anywhere near his big brother. Cole held on to Sumo’s collar tighter and stuck his other hand in his puppy brother’s fur. A tiny child’s voice saying that Sumo didn’t want her to come closer, a soft agreement, and then silence as she walked out of the house. _

  
  


Markus was brought back to the current time and place by Caleb putting a hand on his knee. Right. Yeah. Mister Kamski. Markus sighed and brought his hands up to his head, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and resting his elbows on his knees. He...could have gone without remembering that. It made his stress levels significantly increase, and he leaned to his left to practically curl against his youngest brother. A hand was on his shoulder from the other side. Another reaching from the front seat. Markus didn’t open his eyes, but he did take his hands away from them. He was quiet for the rest of the ride. Vague sounds of heavy metal coming to his ears hurt, and he dialed his audio receptors down. The others were talking. Probably about him. But he just...couldn’t bring himself to care after remembering his mother leaving. Making him upset enough to cry, even if it was unintentional. As well as getting Sumo upset enough to perceive her as a possible threat to his family. 

The drive was rather uneventful, and rather calming if he were to be honest. Another flicker of a memory played through his head. He used to fall asleep on long car rides. It made him smile a little as they got out of the car. Out of the warm car and out into the snowy November morning. Markus ignored the slight twitch of his hand at the memory of the crash and tried his best to push it aside. It wasn’t night, it wasn’t icy, they weren’t on the road, the car was parked. Everything was fine. So he took a deep breath of the cold morning air and sighed it out. Standing before them in the snow was the home of Elijah Kamski. The man he once thought to be his creator. Well, he still technically was. Though in more of a...rebirth sense. Mister Kamski created the body that he now called his own. It housed him, his consciousness. That body got the job done. It gave him a new experience with life. A new experience with death. 

North held his hand that had twitched as they walked to the front door. The house looked modern, with dark paneling and sharp angles. It screamed wealth and luxury even from the outside. Markus awkwardly shuffled his feet in the snow on the walkway. It crunched beneath his boots and he started making footprints to pass the time. A door opened, and a young woman welcomed them inside saying that Mister Kamski would be with them soon. They filed inside, Hank taking a seat in the nearest chair and the twins piling on top of each other in the other one. It drew a laugh from their father. One that made Markus smile and lean more into North before looking at Hank. There was a time where, by some instinct, he would have climbed right into his father’s lap and waited there. But he was fifty-three now, and Markus weighed just about the same as the average male human of his height. 

The woman came back, barefoot and in a blue dress. Markus recognised her. He stared at her in awe, he knew she wasn’t from his past but knew she wasn’t from his present. Who was she? The LED on her temple gave an answer to if she was human or android, and the soft look in her eyes when they looked at each other told him it was real. That somewhere deep in his mind he had a memory of her. He just needed to find it. He reached out to her, synthetic skin slipping back to his wrist, and they took each other’s hands. It was calm, it was welcoming. Her name was Chloe, and she loved him. She was present during the first stages of getting him uploaded into that body. She was there when he initially went from Cole Anderson to Markus. She was proud of him, and it was almost overwhelming. 

Chloe let go of Markus’ hand and smiled up at him before saying Mister Kamski would see them now. The door to the right opened, and they went through it. Hank muttered something about a red pool before telling the twins they needed to get up. Caleb rubbed at the forming cosmetic scar on the side of his head and nodded before moving to take Markus’ other hand. Oh. Okay. He rubbed his thumb against his little brother’s knuckles in an attempt to ground him from whatever made him react like that. The action was rewarded with Caleb’s stress levels dropping slightly. They held onto each other, hands clasped together even when Chloe directed them to sit down. North led them to a couch and the three of them sat down in the...lab. Caleb seemed to fidget nervously, and Hank even had to put a hand on Connor’s shoulder to keep him calm as well. 

Mister Kamski came out of another door. He wore blue jeans, a black shirt with red text on it, a dark brown leather jacket, and some bright pink fuzzy slipper socks. He held a digital clipboard in his hands as he walked into the room. Chloe had to guide him in, he was staring down at the clipboard. Hank made some incredulous noise before moving to also put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. Right, his existence was a contingency plan. He would have been in and out of labs to test if he would function properly. Functioned like a machine. To kill his brother. Markus tightened his grip on his youngest brother’s hand and took a steady breath, North gave his hand a gentle squeeze and sent a comforting feeling through an interface. 

  
  


“Lieutenant, Connor, it’s good to see you again so soon.” Mister Kamski smiled up from his clipboard and then blinked a few times when he saw Markus. “And... _ Markus, _ right? That’s your name?”

“You made me, wouldn’t you know?” Markus looked at Mister Kamski’s socks and suppressed a smile. His lips still quivered as he fought it. “Or did you want it to still be Cole, so you instead had Carl name me?”

“Ah, you remember.” Mister Kamski adjusted his jacket slightly, the action made Markus remember something that he couldn’t quite grasp, and he gave the digital board to Chloe. She interfaced with it and frowned slightly at the information. “Fascinating, isn't it? That you remember all of these bits and pieces from before you were even  _ you. _ That you remember being a human boy instead of just waking up one day with your designation and your role as Carl’s caretaker.” Mister Kamki’s voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry, by the way. Carl was a good friend of mine. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now.”

“No, you can’t.” Markus stood up to look the man he once called his creator in the eye. He didn’t want to admit it, but Mister Kamski had struck a nerve. “Though it’s not as if you kept in touch with him, either. So why feel remorse when you could have done something to remain friends?”

“I know I have no right, you’re right in insinuating that. However, you’re not here to talk about old friends over a glass of wine.” Mister Kamski finally looked up, and Markus could see just how upset he was. He felt guilty suddenly. “Tell me, Cole, or Markus if you prefer, how have the memory feedback loops been?”

“The what?”

“The memories you’re recovering,” Mister Kamski took the digital clipboard back from Chloe and handed it to Markus instead. “Are they hurting you yet?”

  
  
  
  



	19. But It's Worth It

_ November 14th 2038 11:04 AM _

  
  


Hank let go of Connor’s shoulder and instead moved to stand beside C--  _ Markus. _ He put a hand on his son’s back and felt him relax a little bit. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Were they hurting him  _ yet _ ? He wasn’t supposed to be hurting at all! Androids didn’t feel pain, right? Connor never said anything when he was shot, Caleb never told him his head hurt while it was healing. Shit. Hank had no idea what was going on. If he was just making things worse. He sighed through his nose and tried to reign in his reaction. Markus hadn’t really shown an outward reaction, neither did the twins. But North, that girl who held his son’s hand and seemed to be like his mom, she was  _ livid. _ She looked about ready to pounce at the fucking weird inventor to demand he explain himself. Hank had half a mind to let her, but instead he put a hand up to her. North’s eyes darted to him for a second. A second that felt like she was trying to stare into his soul and weigh it’s worth. Then she huffed and crossed her arms, looking away from the group and out the window. 

“Okay, what does that mean?” Markus’ voice made Hank look back at him and Kamski. He seemed...eerily calm. “They haven’t hurt at all. Is it supposed to?”

“Ideally, no it’s not. I’d prefer if you told me you weren’t experiencing any pain at all.” Kamski typed away on the digital clipboard and smiled. “And how are the memories you’re receiving? Some are clear and others a little - ah, how do I explain this? They’re a little murky?”

“Like an old projector, or sometimes they glitch. Why?”

  
  


An old projector. Hank could remember the time when he was five, they went to a drive-in and Cole thought it was the coolest thing in the world. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks and wanted to go again. Hank wanted to smile at the memory, but he’d be damned if he let Kamski see any sort of positive emotion on his face. The fucker tried to have Connor shoot an innocent girl not even two weeks ago. But the glitching? Could memories do that? Well, maybe. He wasn’t an expert on transference of the human mind into an android body. Hank had no idea if it would be normal to have some glitches in his memories. But he was concerned. Did that mean he wouldn’t remember certain things? Was it just luck that he remembered what he did?

Hank kept one hand on Markus’ back and ran the other through his hair while Kamski and his son talked. It was mostly technical speech that he couldn’t make heads or tails of. There was a lot of talk about neural pathways and electrodes, parallels between the human brain and an android’s operating system. Basically, Hank had no fucking idea what was going on. Markus seemed to know, though, and the twins would get it too probably. Maybe North would know. Or maybe not; when Hank looked back to her she was picking at her jeans. He smiled slightly before looking back at Kamski. The guy looked like how people used to describe Loki. A weasel dipped in grease. It was oddly appropriate, actually. 

  
  


“Lieutenant Anderson,” Kamski slightly frowned at him. “I’d like to keep Markus here overnight just to make sure everything is as it should be. You’re welcome to stay, as are the others, if you’d like.”

“Absolutely not!” North shot up from her seat and she got up in Kamski’s face. Oh. Oh, Hank definitely approved of her. “We’re not just letting you run tests and root around inside his head! That’s no--”

“North,” Markus put a hand on her arm, and Hank could swear he was looking at himself and his ex-wife for a moment despite all the differences. He used to put his hand on her arm the exact same way. Did Col--  _ Markus _ even realise that was why he was doing it? “We’re staying. Mister Kamski has the answers I’ve wanted - that  _ we’ve _ wanted - for a while now. You can leave if you’re not comfortable here, but I’m staying.” Then he looked at Hank with those same pleading eyes he used to see three years ago. “Right, Dad? I...I want to stay.”

“Yeah. I’ve got a few questions of my own for Mister Kamski.”

  
  


Markus beamed. He looked just like Cole again. Despite the freckles and the darker skin and the blue eye. He looked exactly the same; and boy did it fuck with Hank’s head. His son was in there and yet he wasn’t his son. This was Markus, an android who led a revolution. It was Cole, just a little boy who loved his family. The differences were obvious and out there for anyone to see. No one would believe Hank or Markus if there were to say he was really Cole Anderson. Though that brought up another good point. They couldn’t exactly go to the court to say he was accidentally declared legally dead. Surprise! The kid that got killed in a car accident was actually alive and in the body of the android revolutionary leader! No, that was awful. 

The group followed Kamski, who seemed so normal wearing actual clothes. He actually looked a little like Reed with the jacket. It was weird to think about Kamski ever having a family, he looked like he sprung up from the ground fully grown. Like some sorta plant sim or some shit. But there he was, looking oddly...regular as he led them through his massive house. They got into some sort of lounge, and Caleb immediately darted toward the fish tank. Connor and Markus weren’t far behind. North decided to hang back, and Hank found that he respected her immensely. She was on her toes around Kamski even though she had no idea that it was a  _ very _ good idea to be. He figured it’d be okay to talk to her eventually. For the moment though, Hank planned on exploring the area of the house they were in. 

It looked like it was supposed to be some sort of gaming...lounge area. There was a gigantic television that Hank was honestly pretty sure cost as much as his car, a few ancient arcade machines, at least four different game consoles, some comfy looking couches and chairs plus a few beanbags, and a huge fish tank. There was a window spanning half of the back wall, showing the frozen landscape. All in all, it was too big. It had too much going on. But fuck if Hank wasn’t going to take advantage of the comfy chairs. He sank down into the nearest one and let himself just...exist in it. Fuck. If he could steal a chair from a billionaire he would. If there was a way to do it he absolutely would have. 

Though that didn’t really matter at the moment. Kamski wanted to keep Markus overnight, watch him or whatever. As long as he wasn’t hooked up to any machines then everything was okay. Hank...didn’t know if he could do that again. Watch as someone attached wires and stuck a tube down his son’s throat to keep him breathing. He sighed into his hand and watched his boys at the fish tank instead. North sat down on a beanbag to his left and watched them as well. Connor and Caleb chattering about which fish were which, telling the temperature of the water, explaining every little thing to a very eager to learn Markus. It was simple. The three of them bonding over fish and having a great time doing it, the excitement on their faces and in their voices. Despite being in Kamski’s house, everything was...looking up. It was obvious North didn’t trust him. Hank liked that. That she erred on the side of caution. It was better to be careful with this guy rather than to take him at face value. Which, at face value, he was creepy and almost like a predator waiting to lunge at his prey. Hank didn’t trust him, even knowing that he had his son saved. 

  
  


“Why are you letting him stay?” North looked up at Hank with a hard expression. He respected that she jumped right to what she wanted to know. She was direct. That was good. “This could be dangerous for him - for all of us!” She whisper-yelled at him. 

“Because he wants to stay, he has questions. Kamski has the answers that both he and I want.” Hank sighed and leveled with her. “I don’t want to be here any more than you do, neither do Connor and Caleb. But we’re not here for us. We’re here for Markus. To support him and make him feel safe here. It’s the fucking least we can do, isn’t it?”

“I guess…” She looked taken aback almost. Like she wasn’t expecting to be told such a thing. “I saw you, you know. Holding him in the road that night, telling him you loved him and that you’d be right there.” Hank waited as she paused, looking at her hands in her lap. She whispered. “He loves you so much.”

  
  


North looked almost wistful as she glanced at the boys. A far away little smile on her face as she started unbraiding her hair. It was Hank’s turn to be taken aback. She...saw him. Realistically, he knew androids could share memories if they really wanted to. He’d seen Connor and Caleb do it a few times in the last week. Interfacing; they called it. So, realistically, it shouldn’t have been that hard for him to wrap his head around the idea that Markus’ memories included him. He  _ was _ Cole. Markus was Cole, and Cole was Markus. Hank still wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. If the pieces of him that were Cole would fade eventually, or the pieces that were Markus would fade some day. It was a terrifying thought. But Markus even mentioned that, sometimes, he didn’t know who he was. If he was Cole or if he was Markus. But, Hank thought, wouldn’t it just be enough to be both? Or a combination thereof. 

Regardless of what would happen in the future; Cole was in there. Cole Anderson was somewhere in there. He wasn’t a solitary entity, there weren’t two people living in that body. It was one person, growing and changing like people do. It wasn’t entirely unlike amnesia, he guessed. If someone lived a life and then suddenly lost their memories. Stumbling through the world having to create a new life for themself because they didn’t know they even had an old one. Eventually there was a catalyst - deviancy in Markus’ case - that made everything come back. Or almost everything. Kamski asked if certain things were murky, Markus said it was like they were playing through an old projector or that they were glitched. What if he never recovered some pieces? What if they were lost forever? What if they were pieces that made him who he was? 

It was a scary thought. One that no one should have had to think about. Ever. But Hank was brought out of his mildly crisis inducing thoughts by Caleb quickly shouting that he wanted to see what games Kamski had to play. Hank inwardly groaned and watched as the boys finally came to sit down on a couch in front of the television, and Markus started up a game system. Hank thought it was a PS5, but he honestly didn’t care enough to really look and find out. Besides, North needed someone. He thought he’d do well enough to keep her company. Hank kicked off his shoes and moved them to the side. If they were staying the night, and he was going to watch his kids play video games, then he was going to at least be comfortable. North watched him with...something. Curiosity mostly, but apprehension too. Then she slowly moved to take her boots off, tugging them off her feet almost violently and tossing them to the same side Hank had with his own shoes. He didn’t say anything, she was learning. That was enough for him. 

Leaning back a bit, and letting his body practically sink into the chair, he greeted the Chloe that came in softly. She asked if he wanted anything to drink, if any of the kids did. Hank was about to tell her he could get a drink himself, but he stopped. His brain just...stopped for a second. Chloe  _ actually _ called them kids. Which wasn’t entirely...wrong. She was sixteen, and they were all pretty young. Col--  _ Markus _ was the oldest, he was nine. Though the thought made Hank smile. His facial muscles betrayed him and he grinned as he told her he thought they could do with some drinks. She beamed, the ever adorable smile she had, and was out the door before he could even thank her. A part of Hank wondered if she acted like a sixteen year old kid sometimes. She was obviously deviant, and Hank had no idea how androids worked in the first place. So it went without saying that he had no idea how the emotional aspect of deviants worked. 

North nudged him from the floor, her eyes on anything but him. That was okay. She didn’t seem to like humans very much. Not that Hank blamed her, he didn’t like humans very much sometimes either. So Hank looked ahead, watching the boys start up  _ Marvel Spider-Man _ and lightly bickering about who was going to start playing first. Well, watching Markus and Caleb bicker and Connor sigh as he handed the controller to Markus. Maybe if North didn’t feel like she had to speak, then she would. It was an open invitation to talk. Hank felt her nudge him, looked down at her in reaction; thus she had to know he knew she had something to say. But he gave her the option of saying it. It wasn’t a big deal if she decided not to talk to him. 

  
  


“You’re not bad for a human.”

“Thanks,” Hank watched as Chloe skidded back into the room with a tray of drinks. Five blue ones and a glass of water. Hank thanked her and grabbed a glass of blue to hand to North. “You’re not bad for a caretaker for my son.”

“He’s a good kid.” North didn’t thank him. She didn’t look at him as she took the drink. Instead, her eyes focused on Chloe as she sat down on the floor next to the couch and watched the boys play. “Taking care of him actually helped mellow me out, I think. Josh and Simon always called me high-strung.”

“I can see it, I’ll be honest.” Hank snorted gently when she shot him a half-hearted glare. “Listen, I’m high-strung myself, I know how it works. That shit ain’t fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” He swirled the water around a bit before taking a sip. “You work yourself up so much that you can’t do anything else. Get so caught up in your own head that you can’t even see what’s right in front of ya. Do somethin’ stupid, somethin’ you regret, somethin’ to make you look back and go ‘wow that was fucking stupid’.”

  
  


North was silent, prompting him to continue. The look on her face told him some of what he needed to know. That she  _ was _ high-strung, that it was for a reason, that there was a reason she said he wasn’t a bad  _ human. _ The kids on the couch were oddly quiet as well. Connor was completely silent as he tended to be when thinking, Hank had already picked up on that with him. Caleb was speaking quietly, trying to influence how Markus played the game. Markus was giggling quietly to himself about some weird thing in the game, and trying to tell Caleb that he needed to stop being a backseat gamer. Chloe even was looking back at Hank with a sad expression. Before he caught her eye, that was. She turned so fast that he thought she was going to spill her drink. He softly chuckled to himself and continued. 

  
  


“You just gotta find your place, kid. Find your people and stick with ‘em. As long as you get each other, then that’s what really matters.” Hank watched as Connor’s shoulder slumped slightly and it sounded like he let out a shuddery breath. Caleb moved to lean the side of his head against his twin’s. “Family isn’t who you’re born to, it’s who you’d die for. Who, even at the thought of them, make ya smile and you’re not exactly sure why. That’s love; that’s the best kind.”

  
  


Hank watched as North mouthed the last sentence to herself. Her brows furrowed and she looked almost like she was having a small crisis. But she looked up at Markus and smiled. 

  
  


“The best kind…”

  
  


They were here for him. To make him feel safe. Hank had no doubt North did that for him while he and Carl couldn’t. He was damn proud to have her look after his boy. 

  
  
  
  



	20. This Is Worth What We're Fighting For

_ November 14th 2038 6:10 PM _

  
  


Hank had decided to explore while Kamski was busy doing...whatever it was he was doing. Honestly, whatever it was wasn’t any of Hank’s damn business, so he figured he’d leave the eccentric inventor alone to his own devices. Both literally and figuratively. By the time he realised he might be lost, he’d seen just about half of the house. At least...Hank thought it was half the house. All the hallways looked the same. The only thing that told him where he was going were the various plants on small tables and paintings hanging on the wall. Eventually, he found himself at a door. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a dark wooden door. It almost looked out of place in the modern home. Hell, it even had an actual door knob instead of just sliding open. Against his better judgement, Hank opened the door. 

It was an office. Plain and simple. But it was...homey, filled with warm tones and actual things you’d see in an office. At least back in the mid to late 2000’s. Fuck, there was even that specific older lamp. The one with the green covering over the lightbulb. What the fuck were those called? Lamp. Table lamp. Vintage. Fuck.  _ Banker’s lamp.  _ That’s what it was! A fuckin’ banker’s lamp. Anyway, the desk, which seemed to be made of oak, had one sitting on top of it. It actually looked kind of nice. Way different from what he was expecting of Kamski, actually. It was modern -  _ Hank’s _ kind of modern. Back in the early 2000’s with the lamp and the dark oak desk, the filing cabinets and manilla folders, the bookshelves making up the walls on the sides of the room, piled with books and awards and certificates, and even a photo. There was an honest to god, real, physical photograph sitting on one of the shelves. 

It was of Kamski and Reed. Fuck, they couldn’t have been any older than sixteen in the photo. They were smiling, they were happy. Now, Hank would have never taken Kamski to be the nostalgic type; but even he had to take a moment to look at the only real smile he had ever seen on the Detective’s face. As much of an asshole detective he was. But he...looked happy in that photo. In a time where whatever made him into who he was hadn’t happened yet. Where he could be free to do random shitty teenager things. Because, deep down, Hank could read him like a book. He had a troubled past and wanted to try and make it so others wouldn’t have as hard a time as he did. Fuck, Hank did the same exact thing. Only he crashed and almost drowned at the bottom of a bottle. Reed became jaded with the job. In Hank’s honest opinion, that one was more acceptable in their line of work. 

  
  


“It was Gavin’s idea, you know.” 

  
  


Kamski’s voice was sudden, almost loud in the silence of Hank snooping where he probably wasn’t supposed to. Hank whirled around, fully intending on leaving the room. But Kamski was in the doorway. Arms crossed loosely against his chest and leaning against the door frame while looking wistfully at the picture on the shelf. Huh, he  _ was _ nostalgic. The tiny smile on his face, stray strands of hair falling out of it’s bun to land against his forehead. He even had glasses on. He looked more like his age with them on. He looked more like some douchebag with a stupid hipster haircut that ordered coffees only from small town shops. Kamski, in that moment wearing casual clothes with stupid fuzzy socks and glasses, looked like some kid. He just looked like a tired man who was thrust into greatness and never was allowed to stop for a second to try and get a grip on what was happening around him. 

  
  


“His mother was dying, she was such a lovely woman.” Kamski came into the room fully, moving one of the chairs from the side of the room to the front of the desk. He sat down behind it, and motioned for Hank to sit in the one he had just moved. For whatever godforsaken reason, he actually sat down. “After my parents had discovered Gavin’s... _ existence; _ they decided it would be better for me to live with him. Brotherly camaraderie, and all that self-righteous talk that made them feel better at night about abandoning their own son.”

“Woulda figured it was the other way ‘round.” Hank politely declined the scotch he was offered and watched as Kamski poured himself some. Neat, and enough for it to be considered a shot. “Sounds like it sucked.”

“It did.” Kamski barked out a bitter laugh and downed all of his scotch in one go. Hank was impressed. “They said they were  _ too busy _ or that it would  _ be better _ for me to get to know my brother more.” He pursed his lips and let out an aggravated sound from the back of his throat while pushing his hair back. “I don’t know why I even still call them my parents, they were never there for me. Gavin’s mother was.”

  
  


Hank didn’t know what had compelled Kamski to talk to him. Maybe it was the old office, maybe it was the photo. Or maybe he was just lonely. Hank knew the brothers weren’t on good terms. In fact, he was pretty convinced that Kamski was the reason Reed was so anti-android in the first place. Maybe it wasn’t just because they were androids. Maybe it was because androids were what took his brother away from him. Reed was guarded, keeping his cards close to his chest. He didn’t let people in. Not even Chris and Tina, and he was actually pretty nice to them. Well. As nice as Gavin Reed could seemingly be. For a second, Hank wondered how much of that kindness was actually real. How much of it would have been something he had shown Kamski in their youth. 

Then suddenly he understood. Kamski said Reed’s mother was dying. He said that she was more of his parent than the two that made him. He said that it was Reed’s idea. All of this was for Reed, for him and his mother. To find a way to keep her alive. To save her life. In that moment, Hank went from looking at a downtrodden and isolated billionaire; to a young boy who was mourning the loss of his mother. Because that was what she was to him, wasn’t it? Kamski said that Reed’s mother was there for him. That he didn’t know why he called his parents exactly that if they weren’t there. If they  _ abandoned  _ him. Hank settled into the chair a bit more, looking around the office as casually as he could. An invitation. If Kamski wanted to talk more about it, then he could. If he didn’t, he could kick Hank out of the room. 

  
  


“I wanted to save her…” His voice was soft, broken almost. Hank looked back to see him gripping the edge of the desk, hanging his head and his shoulders starting to shake. “I just wanted my mom to live. I wanted her to be okay--” Kams--  _ Elijah’s _ voice cracked and he let out a pitiful sound that he so desperately tried to keep inside of himself. “I just wanted my mom to be okay.”

“Listen, kid; grief sucks. We want our loved ones to live long and happy lives. Healthy and full of love and all that crap. The fuckin’ hallmark of life or whatever.” Hank heaved out a sigh and tried to wrap his head around the fact that he was trying to comfort Elijah fucking Kamski. “It sucks. It hurts. You’d do anything to make sure it doesn’t hurt them  _ or _ you. But the fact of the matter is; everybody dies. Not everyone gets a second chance.”

“But your son--”

“I’m grateful for that, I really am.” Hank ran a hand through his hair and watched as Elijah shook with the force of trying to keep his tears in. Hank rolled his eyes and stood up, looking to the side to deal with his discomfort and putting his arms out. “C’mere, I’m not gonna offer this twice.”

  
  


Elijah was around the desk in a heartbeat, burying his face in Hank’s shoulder and shaking. He wrapped his arms around the older man’s torso and tried so hard to keep from making any noise. But fuck, Hank knew how hard it was. Though all it took was Hank putting a hand on Elijah’s back, and another at the top of his head, for the floodgates to open. Elijah cried into Hank’s shirt. He twisted the fabric in his fists and almost tried to pull himself into the man. He held on as if his life depended on it, like if he let go he would fall apart. Like Hank was the only thing grounding him. Honestly...he wouldn’t have doubted that. Elijah was crying like he had never cried before. With the way he was crying...it had been a while since he had last let himself. Hank knew. He understood. The first cry after a long time of not allowing oneself to do such a thing.

Hank didn’t speak. He didn’t say anything, no bullshit about everything being alright. He just stood with an inventor in self-imposed exile from his home city; gently hushing him as he cried and mourned for a mother he so desperately tried to save. But that...wasn’t entirely it. Sure Hank was getting older, but he was Lieutenant for a reason. He was still a damn fine detective if he were to say so himself. There was something else Elijah wasn’t telling him. Something about her, or maybe something about Reed, fuck it could have even been something about his own son. For a while, Hank stood there holding the man against his chest. The man who was no longer in his thirties in Hank’s eyes; but a little boy who was scared and alone and just wanted someone to hold him and tell him his mother would make it. 

God knew Reed would never have been the one to do it. 

So instead, Hank spoke. He told Elijah about the aquarium and how Cole’s favourite shirt was the shark one they bought there. How his favourite colour was blue. Any blue. He had a star shaped night light that was mostly cyan, a dark blue rug with a yellow crescent moon and stars, the colour of the shirt with the shark on it. How he used to grin and his nose would wrinkle up in the cutest way. How he’d be wracked with giggles even before he or his ex-wife went to tickle him. The way he would sneak Sumo pieces of toast on Sunday mornings when they got up early to make breakfast together. The way he used to ask all sorts of questions not because he was curious, but because he used to want to be a detective just like his father. The olive green of his eyes, and how they sparkled when he was excited. 

  
  


“I made sure to have him keep those…” Elijah took a shallow breath before continuing. “Eyes are the window to the soul, an’ all that.”

“That would explain why that part’s exactly the same even though every other fuckin’ thing is different.” Hank huffed gently and patted Elijah’s back before letting the younger man pull away. His eyes were puffy and red, his cheeks a little pink, but he looked more or less the same. “Why  _ does _ he look different?”

“YK sized models have less space in them, both physically and in computing power.” Elijah straightened out, seemingly grateful for the topic he knew inside and out. “There are around two and a half petabytes of information in a human’s brain. That’s a million gigabytes. In layman’s terms; we’ve got a whole lotta fuckin’ memory.” Elijah smirked wryly as Hank sputtered at the crude language. “But the YK sized models have less physical space for a hard-drive, thus less space for the terabytes of the human brain. Only an adult sized model, with a processor I had to make from scratch, could hold him.”

“You could have made him look like himself still, though.” Hank raised a brow and then bit the bullet. “Why does Connor look like my son?”

  
  


Elijah looked viscerally uncomfortable. He looked like he wanted to be literally anywhere else but in that old office. But he gestured at the chair Hank previously sat in, and leaned against the edge of the desk once the detective sat down. He worried at his bottom lip while refusing to make eye-contact. Fuck, if it was that bad, then maybe Hank should have taken the scotch that was offered earlier. If it had  _ Elijah Kamski _ speechless and worried out of his fuckin’ mind, then what was it gonna do to Hank? 

  
  


“I didn’t think you’d want him back at the time unless he looked exactly the same. Like the little boy you knew him as. I’ve never been very artistic; so I asked Carl to create a sculpt, Connor’s face, so he could have the space from the adult body but the face you remembered.” Elijah’s shoulders suddenly slumped and he looked about ready to pass right the fuck out. “But, again, I didn’t think you’d want him unless he was  _ exactly _ the same. So I asked Carl for another sculpt. Thus began his existence as Markus, and the next stage of Cole Anderson.”

“Then what’s the deal with Connor’s freckles and beauty marks?”

“Those must have been added by CyberLife after I left.” Elijah shoved off of the desk and began to leave the room, lingering in the doorway until Hank got up and followed him out into the hall. “I kept it just in case I could transfer him into a body with that face, if he so wanted it. But it looks like whoever took the company over from me had other plans…”

“For what it’s worth, Elijah,” Hank tried not to smirk at the awe and disbelief on the inventor’s face. “I think your mom would be real proud of you for saving a life with the technology.” He faced the inventor, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him a sad smile. The man looked like he was about to burst into tears again. “Even if you couldn’t save her.”

“...Thank you.”

  
  


The day came where Hank Anderson consoled Elijah Kamski. He showed a vulnerability he never thought he even had anymore. Fuck, he’d gone soft. But as he watched the young man who accidentally - or maybe not so accidentally - created an entire species; he thought it’d be okay to be soft like that again. Little by little. Helping a person a little bit more every time he saw them. 

Who knew one of those people would be the man who saved a little boy because he couldn’t save his mother. 

  
  
  



	21. I'm Fighting For You

_ November 15th 2038 9:18 AM _

  
  


Markus had been sent to sleep in a specific room by Mister Kamski. Not that he really minded, but he was so used to sleeping around other people that it seemed...strange. But if it got him the answers he wanted, then he was willing to put up with a little discomfort. Besides, it wasn’t like it was the first time he had woken up alone in a different environment. Albeit the junkyard was a terrifying experience… But that just set the bar pretty low for how he would react upon discovering he was alone. All in all, while he was somewhat disoriented by the fact, he was actually a little...giddy. To have answers. To know his origins. To get to know his father better and meet up with old friends. Maybe… Maybe one day he could find his mother again and they could be a family. Maybe not all together like they used to be, Markus knew there was a reason his parents got divorced. But he could still be in contact with her and let her know he was safe and happy. 

So when Chloe came into the room to wish him a good morning and run some simple tests, he wrung his hands together in anticipation. He knew some of the basics already because Hank snuck in the night before to tell him. Markus knew about Detective Reed, how the technology was initially for his and Mister Kamski’s mother. He could understand, in a way. If there had been a way to save Carl, that he would have approved of, then he had no doubt in his mind that he would have taken the option. Though that wasn’t a possibility. What was, was learning more about who he was and how he got there. Got to be the person he was in the current day. It was a little daunting and intimidating. But this would have been the only way to actually understand and know. His father seemed to better trust the inventor in self-imposed exile, which meant Markus would start to trust him too. 

Chloe ran a few tests. Very simple ones. How his motor functions worked, basic diagnostics, checking out his specs and telling him he had done very well for himself despite the circumstances. Being around her was...overwhelming. She exuded confidence. Love came off of her in waves. Chloe was a very gentle and loving being, looking at him with a soft smile and warm eyes. Her movements were careful and precise. Her voice lilted through the air kind and soft. Markus was loved. He was loved by her and he didn’t understand why. But it was comforting at the same time, to have someone love him unconditionally. He knew North did, she was basically his mother at times. Though Chloe… Chloe was something entirely different. Something entirely new. She looked at him with pride, with love, with adoration. She referred to him as ‘sweetheart’ and ‘dear’ and would gently brush her knuckles against his cheek. She looked sad for a split second. She looked proud for the rest. 

Eventually Chloe took his hand and helped him off of the examination table. Even though he was tall and didn’t need any help. But her hand was soft. It was warm and small in his own, so he let her help. Her hands were nothing like North’s. They were so much like North’s. That was when he realised why she treated him that way. It seemed that Mister Kamski’s personal projects all had an R in their models. RT, RK. They were the same. Coming from Mister Kamki. She saw him as something of a family member. They were siblings maybe. Markus looked down at her as she half-dragged him through the halls. He always wanted a little brother, but he had never thought of a sister. She was older than him anyhow, he’d have an older sister. He wondered how much of him was the same as her, he wondered how different they were. He wondered how his father would react to him possibly having an older sister. 

They entered the kitchen and dining area. Greys with red mostly. It was very geometric and very boring. But there his father sat with his brothers, and they were chatting with Mister Kamski. North was sitting up on a counter and keeping a careful eye on the inventor. The way she squinted made him smile, and he couldn’t help it when he let out a slight huff of a laugh. She was so angry so much of the time, it couldn’t have been good for her to constantly be on edge like that. Both literally and figuratively. Markus could have sworn she was barely on the countertop. Chloe guided him to sit down with his family before waving North over and guiding her to sit as well. It was...almost homey. Very different from either home he had known. It was too stuffy, too bland and plain. The house didn’t look well lived in. It looked...boring. There was no  _ life, _ there was no  _ colour. _ He couldn’t understand how Mister Kamski lived in a place like this. 

  
  


“So, Markus, I was thinking.” Hank set his coffee mug down and gave his son a smile. One that made him grin back. “It’s your body, your mind; ultimately your decision. But if there’s a way for you to look through your memories easier while we’re here, do you want to do it?”

“Wait… There’s a way we can do that?” Markus looked at Mister Kamski, who actually appeared to be nervous when on the spot. “You can do that?”

“I can try. There’s no guarantee that I can help. But…” Mister Kamski glanced at Hank with a slight smile before looking back at Markus. “I can damn well try to.”

  
  


Markus was...in awe. He didn’t understand what would happen, or why Mister Kamski said he might not be able to really help. But to hell with it. If there was an option for getting more memories back, and being able to understand them, then he was going to take it. His memories came back at random. They were sporadic and often time completely unrelated to what he was doing at the moment they came back. Though sometimes...there was a link between the two. A catalyst almost. One that made the memories come rushing back, even if it was only a simple little thing. Or if it was vague and he couldn’t entirely understand what it was his mind was trying to remember. Those ones were frustrating. He usually only had visual artifacts on the memory, like a slightly corrupted video file. 

Though the day before made one of those vague and unreadable memories come back to him. When Mister Kamski had adjusted his jacket slightly. Maybe his mom used to adjust her jacket in a similar way, or his dad. It was foggy and dark, it was like he was trying to grab smoke that was quickly fading. It was almost agonizing to try and fit the pieces together. It was like he had a puzzle, but he lost the box. Only the pieces were on the wrong side, and he couldn’t flip them over to make sure he was making the picture as it was supposed to be. It was exhausting and honestly speaking, Markus was getting very tired of it very quickly. Things were so much easier when he had his clearer memories. At least he knew what was going on with those ones. 

Soon enough, Mister Kamski had stood up and stretched his arms over his head, his shoulders popping as he went up on his toes. He made a satisfied noise as he dropped his arms back down and asked for the family to follow him into another room. For a moment, Markus wondered if Mister Kamski could be considered family. After all, he made the body he was in. Carl made the face, and Connor’s face, so he was obviously family. But Mister Kamski had created the programming that made up the parts of himself that used to be a caretaker. That was a part of him he would never be without. Did that make Mister Kamski family? Considering the fact that it was something about who he was at the very core of his being. A blend of a human boy and an android.

They gathered in another laboratory, and Markus took Caleb’s hand in his own as soon as they were all inside. North, much to Markus’ surprise and delight, put her hands on Connor’s shoulders to ground him as well. It made sense for the twins to react negatively to the room. Connor was used by CyberLife, Caleb’s entire existence revolved around Connor remaining loyal to CyberLife. The sterile environment couldn’t have been nice for either of them. So Markus let go of his brother’s hand, and grabbed his cheeks as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. He muttered about it being for good luck and smiled when Caleb’s shoulders slumped a bit from the comfort. 

Mister Kamski seemed...intrigued. He watched the interaction before slipping his glasses on to the top of his head. But...why not just put them on then? Markus disregarded the odd nature of the man who helped create his brothers and sat on the examination table when prompted to. North gently put a hand on his back as he moved forward, and Markus didn’t realise how tense he was until she took it away. The tension in his shoulders was immediately gone when she placed her hand there, his hands relaxed and his footsteps felt slightly lighter. Some of the tension returned when her hand was gone, but it wasn’t as bad. Markus climbed up on top of the table and took his jacket and shirt off as per Mister Kamski’s request. He explained it wasn’t integral to the process, but it would help keep him from overheating if anything were to upset him in his memories. Just because he was so used to the act as Cole, Markus took off his shoes and then laid down on his back. 

Wires and sensors were hooked up to his chest and head, one node directly over where his LED used to be. It wasn’t like he was under stasis or anything. So he was aware of the room around him. To the words exchanged between Mister Kamski and Chloe mostly. Though his audio receptors also picked up on...North. Of her very softly whispering to him and assuring him that everything would be alright. That she-- Markus furrowed his brows and listened closer to try and figure out if that was something he wanted to hear or if North actually said it. But as he replayed the audio clip in his head, he heard her say that she loved him  _ too, _ clear as day. She was talking to Hank as Markus’ parental figure, not as the woman who was wary of humans at best and outright hostile at the worst. A soft smile graced Markus’ lips as he reached a hand out and quietly called out for his father, putting a hand out and beckoning him closer. Hank was by his side holding his hand in an instant. 

  
  


“Oh…” Mister Kamski used a displeased tone of voice, and Markus looked over to see him squint at the digital clipboard before taking his glasses from the top of his head and actually putting them on. “You have corrupted memory files…”

“What does that mean?” His father spoke in his stead. Honestly, Markus was grateful. “Elijah, what’s wrong with his memories?”

“Technically, nothing is wrong. Markus said it didn’t hurt, so that means everything is...relatively alright.” He sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “But these memories...there’s no getting them back. I can try to view them as best I can; extract them and put them through some sort of program to try and clean them up. But it won’t be the same. It’ll look like he’s watching a movie.”

“I’m right here, thank you, please stop talking like I’m not here.” Markus shifted uncomfortably before sitting up and crossing his arms as best he could; considering all of the wires attached to him. He heard a small sound of approval North made. It made him sit up straighter and square his shoulders a bit. “I would appreciate it if you tried to recover them, I’d like to know my past.”

“Then I’ll get right to work. But I need you to go into stasis…” Mister Kamski’s eyes darted behind Markus a moment, and he received a message from North saying she would protect him. “I need to somewhat... _ root around _ inside your head. Is that alright?”

“If it’s what you have to do,” Markus laid down on the examination table and smiled at his family. “Then please do whatever you have to in order to help me.”

“Alright, then lay back down. I need you to go into stasis, it will make the process go faster.”

  
  


Markus did as he was told, and laid back down. He gave his father’s hand a light squeeze as he smiled up at him. There was a soft assurance that everything would be alright as he slipped into stasis. Closing his eyes with a wistful smile on his face. As well as trying to ignore the very obvious pained sound that came out of hank as Mister Kamski counted down to his stasis.

  
  
  
  



	22. Are You Hiding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the sudden disappearance!! i had a family emergency come up and then work decided to change my hours a bit,,,
> 
> a week long hiatus is still too long of a hiatus for me and my fanfics!!! we'll be back to the erratic, yet consistent, update schedule my dear readers!!

_ November 15th 2038 1:12 PM _

  
  


North decided to go back to the house to give Josh and Simon a general lowdown of what had happened while they were at Mister Kamski’s house. It wasn’t much, but it was very important. They had discovered there was no rhyme or reason to how his memories worked. Which ones were clear and which ones weren’t. There was no method to the madness that was the enigma of his human memories. However, the more in-depth analysis as to why some memories were corrupted would have to wait a few days. Mister Kamski extracted copies of them and was going to try and work to make them as clear as he could in the meantime. That way they could get an idea of just what was causing the corruption other than the unfinished technology. Honestly speaking? It was frustrating, but he would keep his cool. He had led an entire revolution. He had freed an entire species of people. Markus could handle his memories being wonky and confusing. He certainly didn’t want to, but he could still do it. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience but it would be one he needed to have all the same. 

Markus held Connor’s hand as he was led into the DPD. Honestly speaking, he was intimidated. He had been there some time ago, he had spoken with Officer Chris. He used to go there to meet with his Uncle Jeff and meet his father’s coworkers sometimes. He knew the DPD. He had been there a good handful of times as a child. So Markus didn’t understand why he was...upset. He didn’t exactly want to be there, that was true. But he also didn’t want to be left alone. He wouldn’t be if he was back at the house! Though...that would mean he was back at the house. A home that didn’t feel like a home without Carl in it. Which led to him feeling like he was willingly somewhat abandoning his family he had built around him for the one he used to have. That was something he was going to have to talk to them all about at one point. 

Though for now, Officer Chris caught his eye and had to blink a few times to get his bearings. He didn’t look as shaken up as either of the last times he saw the man. Which was good! That was good, Markus was glad that Officer Chris seemed to be doing better. In all honesty, he was surprised that he was back at work so soon after nearly dying the night of the raids. But it wasn’t him, it wasn’t his job, nor his life. It was ultimately Officer Chris’ decision. Though once the man had gotten his bearings, he nodded his head in a way that told Markus to follow him. With a quick word to his brothers and father that he was going to go talk to Officer Chris, he was up and following him into the break room. No one was in there except one person. But he had his nose in a manilla folder and greeted Chris with an annoyed grunt before leaving. So much for trying to figure out who Markus could remember and who he couldn’t. But that was of no concern right now. 

Officer Chris didn’t speak as he readied the coffee maker, though he did joke about needing coffee at all hours because of his son keeping himself and his wife up all night. Markus didn’t know what he meant, so he stayed quiet. Not only that but he was suddenly feeling very...exposed. He was vulnerable in a place where he didn’t have the support he once did as a child. He couldn’t just bury his face in his father’s neck or shoulder and call it a day. He had to be a respectable guest at the DPD. Not only because he was the Deviant Leader, but because he wanted to be on his best behaviour for his father. So Markus stood up straight and kept to himself until Officer Chris asked him what was wrong. Nothing… Nothing was  _ wrong, _ per se. He was just...incredibly awkward when he was out of his element. Upon voicing his predicament to the man, Chris nodded sagely and put an arm around Markus’ shoulders and pulled him into his side. 

  
  


“I get it, little man. It’s weird being back here, huh?” Chris gave him a knowing smile and poked his nose gently. “It’s kinda weird having you back… You’re so...different.”

“Yeah, it’s...certainly a thing. Not a bad thing, but it’s just...a thing.” Markus found himself slipping slightly. The stimuli reminding him of his time as a human child. Reminding him of his childhood. It made him slip and remember what it was like to be the child of someone working there. Thus his vocabulary started to suffer for it. “I dunno how to really describe it.”

“Take your time, Cole.” The coffee maker beeped, and Officer Chris took his mug and put some milk in it before grabbing a pouch of thirium and handing it to the young boy with a playful smirk. “Here ya go; figured you wouldn’t wanna be left out, now would ya?”

“Thank you…”

  
  


Markus held the pouch in his hands, not exactly sure of how he was supposed to open it. Well, he knew how to open it. He had seen other people do it, and he had done it when he was big. When he had a grown-up’s mind. But he was clumsy when he was this small. He didn’t want to make a mess. So he shuffled his feet awkwardly and pushed the pouch back at Officer Chris with a small pout. He really didn’t want to admit he couldn’t open it himself while at the DPD, he knew how he looked to them. By some miracle, Officer Chris understood. He took it back with a smile, and tore the top open. Though before Markus could take it back, he was told to wait a second. 

Officer Chris rooted around a drawer with one hand, muttering to himself about finding something. After a second of him rifling through the drawer, he made a playful triumphant sound. In one hand he held a metal straw up above his head. The action made Markus snicker as he watched Officer Chris stick the straw inside the opening and hand it back. Though he was careful, still holding the pouch until he was sure Markus had a good grip on it. As the human sipped at his coffee while watching the muted news channel, Markus sipped at his thirium and sat down in the yellow plastic chair. The bullpen was through the windows, and he watched the people going around inside. 

He recognised Officer Ben, he was a friend of his father’s. He used to bring in fun cookies when he knew Markus would be in the precinct. Then there was Officer Tina, who looked tired. Markus could just barely remember meeting her once or twice before the accident. She was very new to the office, just a rookie who had been hired a few days prior to him first meeting her. In all honesty, he was impressed with himself that he could even remember her at all. Then, in a big glass office, was his Uncle Jeff. He and his father had known each other since they were kids. Markus absolutely loved his Uncle Jeff, and wondered if he would remember him. Well, of course he’d remember him. But Markus wondered if he would know that inside of the Deviant Leader, was a little boy who missed his family. 

Before he could try to calm himself down, Markus felt a sting behind his eyes that he had become well accustomed to. He was seconds away from crying. He did  _ not _ want to cry in the middle of the precinct. Though the fact that it was a possibility made him even more uncomfortable. In his child-like state of mind, it caused him to set his thirium pouch down on the table and bury his face in his hands to try and block out some of the stimuli. Officer Chris immediately said he would go get his father before his quick footsteps left the breakroom. Markus was alone. He slowly brought his head up from his hands and looked out with wide eyes as he made eye-contact with Caleb. Things were...okay. Things were okay. 

Maybe it was the fact that Officer Chris had been rushing out of the break room, or maybe it was Caleb speaking despite still looking at Markus, but Hank was up in an instant and practically running into the room. It seemed that neither of them could help the instinct to run to each other. The officers in the bullpen raised a few eyebrows, though ultimately went back to their business. Markus reached out for the man he once, and now again, called his father. Not entirely unlike when he was still a human child. Not entirely dissimilar to how he would lift his arms when he was very tired and wanted to be picked up and taken home. Oh, how he wanted to go home. To Sumo and his room with his comics and toys. But he had a house to call his very own now, and wasn’t that supposed to be his home now? The house with the giraffe, the globe he liked to spin, the piano he learned how to play. 

But Markus lifted his arms, pouting up at his father because he was tired and stressed. He just wanted to go home. When he expressed his wants to the man, he smiled. Markus watched in confusion as his father smiled at him while sitting down in the chair next to him. His dad smiled and moved his hand like he was trying to brush his hair away from his face and tuck it behind his ear. It wasn’t long enough for that anymore. But...his father’s hair was. Markus blinked slowly as he brought a hand up, a small snicker passing his lips, and gently tucked his father’s hair behind his ear. Oh huh. He actually looked pretty nice with it like that. Maybe one day he’d let him play with it and put it up and braid it. Though until then he would just sit with his father holding him against his chest. Warm. Comforting. Loving. Those hugs always made him feel better. Made him feel safe and protected, and usually after those hugs he was told they would go home. 

  
  


“C’mon, bud, let’s go.” Hank stood up, chuckling as Markus let out a small dissatisfied sound. “We’re goin’ home, don’t you wanna go see Sumo?”

“I love Sumo…” Markus rubbed at his eye and stood up while holding his father’s hand. “Can we bring him to Carl’s?”

“Sure thing, kiddo.” 

  
  


Hank grinned, though there was a sadness in his eyes. Before Markus could ask why, his Uncle Jeff came into the break room. Presumably for some coffee himself, he looked very tired. Or...maybe not. He pulled Hank off to the side and they started speaking quietly with one another. It seemed to be a rather heated conversation, Hank’s voice rose just slightly every once in a while. Markus tried not to eavesdrop. He really,  _ really _ did. But when he caught his name as well as Cole’s, the thickness in his father’s voice, and the way Uncle Jeff drew in a sharp breath at the mention of Mister Kamski; he couldn’t help it anymore and he listened in. 

  
  


“Jeff, I know it’s hard for you to understand--”

“Oh yeah, right, because I  _ shouldn’t _ be concerned when my goddamn childhood friend is suddenly spouting some fuckin’-- Some goddamn  _ nonsense _ about hos his son is still alive and inside the Deviant Leader!”

“Don’t you fucking say it like that. Don’t you talk about my boy like that.” His voice was dark, angry. Markus nearly turned from his thirium pouch to watch what else was happening. Instead, he picked it up and began drinking it again. “He  _ remembers, _ Jeff! He remembers the crash, his name-- Jeffrey, he  _ knew _ where Sumo’s leash was as soon as he stepped foot into the house!”

“Hank, I think that recent... _ events _ may have clouded your judgement. Take some time off, a week or something, just to--”

“Ask him.” This time Markus did turn. He looked right at the two men in question and raised a brow at his father. But the two of them simply stared at him. Hank with love, his Uncle Jeff with pain. “Ask him, Jeff. Anything. He’ll know.”

  
  


Markus smiled, though still kept the metal straw between his lips, and leaned against his father’s side when he stood beside him. A soft sound came from his Uncle Jeff as he let his eyes slip closed. He was content. He was safe. He had his family and friends around him, he was no safer anywhere else. As long as they were with him, then he was in good hands. 

  
  


“Cole,” Markus opened his eyes and smiled up at his uncle. His uncle who seemed to be having a very difficult time at the moment. “I just...wanted to ask you something…”

“M’what is it?” Markus took the straw out of his mouth and furrowed his brows slightly when his father took the thirium pouch to set it down on the table. He wasn’t going to drop it…

“Do you remember what I got you for your birthday?” His Uncle Jeff honestly looked like he was about to pass out from the lack of sleep and the amount of stress he was under. “When you turned six?”

“You got me some clothes and a picture!” 

  
  


Markus could remember it perfectly. They all went to the aquarium after the party with his friends. There happened to be a photobooth. It wasn’t much, not really, he knew that even when he was Cole. But he also knew that his dad was having a hard time and liked the simplicity of the old machine. So when Uncle Jeff dragged his father over to it “for old time’s sake”, he had decided to jump in on the pictures. They had a blast in the photobooth together. Pulling all sorts of goofy faces and laughing together. Some of the subsequent pictures were added to the gifts his Uncle Jeff had given him earlier that afternoon. 

When he explained the day, down to the detail of how they stopped at the touch tank and he nearly fell in because he was a short kid, his Uncle Jeff looked like he was about to burst into tears. Markus understood why. So he stood up. He stopped leaning against his father’s side and moved to hug his Uncle Jeff. Who instantly buried his face in his shoulder and softly told him he missed him. The hug got slightly tighter, from both ends of it, and they stood there for a bit. Existing with one another. Yet another piece of the puzzle that was Cole Anderson slotting into place. It was...nice. To have another family member back again. 

  
  
  
  



	23. Are You Hiding From The Truth?

_ November 15th 2038 2:02 PM _

  
  


With a sigh, Hank leaned back in his chair and glanced into Fowler’s office. Markus was in there, smiling and laughing and having a great time. It was actually pretty fuckin’ great. Y’know, with all things considered. Hell, Hank was pretty sure Fowler was gonna make him get a psych eval if Markus didn’t happen to remember that day. Which brought him back to the present. Another sigh, and he picked up his phone. No new notifications. Elijah said it would be a few days before he was able to give any real updates on the corrupted memories. But damn, that didn’t mean that Hank wasn’t going to be impatient and wish that the inventor had answers now. Instead of dwelling on it, he decided to get up and to the archives. A little walk might not have been such a bad idea. Though Hank damn near jumped out of his skin when he felt his phone vibrate as he stood up. He tried to hide his excitement as he got a message, and only slightly deflated as he saw it was a spam email and not a message from Elijah. 

It wouldn’t help anyone if he was so worked up. Not the other officers, not the deviants he was supposed to be helping to protect, not the kids. Maybe he could grab some old files involving androids and bring them back up to his desk to work on. Tons of those old cold cases had been left to be unsolved because of the fact there was a lack of evidence and only the android was left behind. The DPD thought they were just...blue-screen-ing more or less, so they sent them back to CyberLife stores to get reset. Hank fought down a shudder at the thought of putting someone through getting their lives ripped away from them, and grabbed a box of files. Not that there was any physical paperwork in the newer ones, but it was a place to start nonetheless. Hefting the box up onto a table, Hank groaned at the sheer amount of files before taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves. Fuck, he hadn’t been in there doing that in fucking forever. Years before the accident. He shook the thought away as he heard the door to the archives open and got to work. Even, yet still somewhat hesitant, footsteps in what sounded like dress shoes. Caleb. 

They exchanged sounds in greeting. Well. Hank vaguely grunted in his direction, and Caleb provided a soft greeting in return. Without saying much to one another, they got to work. Caleb was a state of the art prototype and caught on pretty quickly. He didn’t say much, he never did around Hank. But they worked well together. So they started taking the files and information on the old cases out to organise into piles. Some were just a lack of evidence. Some had a lack of motive. Some were even a lack of a body; those ones were always weird to him. What the hell would a person do with a dead body? Well, a disgusted little voice in the back of his head reminded him, some people  _ like _ that kind of thing. Some people were just sick and liked to play with the body. Some of them moved it to a more discreet location. But overall, it had to be pretty fucked up to even think about doing any of those things to a  _ dead body. _ He blinked away the unsavoury thoughts and continued. At least before he got to a case that was a bit between divisions. 

The surgeon who was high on Red Ice during his son’s operation. The one who was too damn busy huffing a fistful of powder to be bothered with the literal child dying that was supposed to be put in his care. Hank’s hands tightened around the manilla folder, jaw set and brows furrowed. He straightened out and slammed the folder on the table. The way that Caleb jumped and flinched away made his heart hurt. The look in his eyes that made Hank remember he was going to shoot that poor kid made him feel shaky. The hunched shoulders, the wide eyes, the hands wringing each other, the ducked head; all of how Caleb reacted made all of Hank’s anger fade. Cole-- Markus--  _ His son _ was alive. It may have taken him three years to find him again, but his boy was alive. He had no reason to be reacting like that. Especially in front of the poor kid who had turned into somewhat of a son to him, scaring him because he wasn’t good with loud noises or sudden movements. Why Caleb had decided to work with the DPD and not pursue something less, well, something less triggering for him, was beyond Hank. It was probably something to do with Connor. 

  
  


“Caleb, you know you don’t have to work here with us if you don’t want to.” Hank spoke softly as he dropped down into a chair. The nervous expression on Caleb’s voice prompted him to continue. “Kid, you’re not comfortable here. Are you here for Connor?”

“Maybe…” He hesitantly sat in the chair across from Hank. “I don’t know what else to do. I was made for this. I was created for police work, this is what I was meant to do with my existence. I don’t think I  _ can _ do anything else.”

“Respect where respect is due,” Hank put a hand up before crossing his arms and getting a little more comfortable. “That’s bullshit. You can do plenty of other stuff. Tell me something you're into and we can brainstorm other jobs.”

“I...like flowers.” A wistful smile graced Caleb’s face before fear took it over and he hid behind his hands. “But I can’t do red roses, and Valentine’s Day is very special for humans.”

  
  


Florist was good because of his love for flowers, however he was sent spiralling at even the continuous thought of red roses. Which resulted in Hank rushing around the table to hold him as he cried. Caleb just...wouldn’t stop shaking until Hank grabbed his face and forced the boy to look at him. Assure him that he was there, and whatever the thing was with roses was couldn’t hurt him. Especially if he was there. He’d rip the damn things right out of the ground if it made his boy feel better. It got a soft chuckle from the kid, which made Hank feel a little better. But still, fuck was that scary. After sitting back down, Hank pressed a hand to his chest and took a deliberately slow breath. These kids were gonna be the death of him. He could genuinely say he wouldn’t be  _ too _ mad if they really were, but he’d find them in the afterlife and have to give them quite the talking to once they got there. Though instead of dwelling on the inevitability of his mortality in relation to the relative immortality of his kids, Hank decided to continue with the task at hand. 

Okay so, no florist. If the thought of red roses set Caleb off like that, then there was no goddamn way. He was gonna have to stay home when early February rolled around. But he could do something with gardening maybe? No, people didn’t really hire gardeners these days. Caleb assured him it was okay, he did like things other than flowers. Like animals, apparently he loved fish. Hank smiled as he sheepishly admitted it, saying he genuinely did get impacted by Connor’s very first choice. To save the fish. He liked fish specifically, though his favourites were tropical ones. The math involved, the routine of taking care of them, the time spent reading and doing research, the complicated simplicity of the whole thing. Hank watched fondly as Caleb got more relaxed as he spoke. It was...freeing almost. Caleb was usually so nervous and guarded around him. But all he needed to do was talk about fish and the kid would open right up. Maybe that would be it. Honestly, he sure fuckin’ hoped it was. Hell, he’d be retiring in some time and he had no idea if Connor was staying with the DPD either. It would be good for him to have something of his own. Create himself with his family  _ beside _ him, and not because of them. 

Though before they could really get into the nitty-gritty of how he would become an Aquarist, Markus popped his head in through the doorway and then came in with Connor on his heels. Hank couldn’t help the laugh at the sight. They really were siblings, weren’t they? Shit, he could remember his younger cousins following him around as a kid. He grinned at his kids, because that was what they were. His kids. A son that he had previously thought gone, in the ground never to be seen again in any way. Yet there he was, albeit looking  _ very _ different, standing before Hank’s very eyes smiling and laughing. Putting his hands on his brothers’ shoulders and arms and holding their hands. Always so gentle and loving. For a second, Hank wondered who Carl Manfred was. If he could have been able to meet the man had their circumstances been different. Hank thought he’d like to thank the man. It would be...uncomfortable visiting a grave. But then again, it always was. 

But he watched his kids. He wondered about where they came from, who they would become. Not one of them would have lived a life without him in it to this point, but there would be a time where they would. Live a life without him in it. It was scary to think about. It brought back the conversation between him and Elijah in the office, how he said he wanted his mom to live. He loved her because she was there for him, and became his parent more than the two that made him. Hank wondered if that was what happened between Markus and Carl. He ended up loving him because he was there, because Carl loved  _ him, _ and that was never questioned. But he also had no memories from before. From his life as Cole Anderson. It was dizzying to think about for too long. It was dizzying and uncomfortable and made his chest feel tight in a way it hadn’t in years. Not since the first few months after the accident. But there is no reason to think about it now, his kids were safe and sound. Caleb needed to reevaluate his choices and what it meant to even have them in the first place; but his kids were  _ safe. _ That was what mattered the most. 

  
  


“Hey Markus, I actually got a question ‘bout work for ya.” Hank waved his eldest son over and showed him the files. “Since Con and Caleb are gonna be workin’ with ya in terms of communication, you’ve got access to the files pertaining to androids. You think you could scan ‘em, set up a server or somethin’ for ‘em and keep the files to look through with your buddies?”

“I can certainly try to set that up, but the deviants still don’t even have a collective place to stay. We were thinking about doing, and accepting, volunteer work to refurbish some of the old buildings that are more or less up to OSHA standards.” Markus grabbed a file and opened it, eyes scanning the few physical pages inside. “You want our help to get these people justice…”

“Fact of the matter is, son,” Hank watched Markus smile slightly at the word. “We need help to determine if the androids are innocent or not. If it were up to me, I’d say most of ‘em were. But we just don’t know.”

“I can talk to Simon about it, one of these files pertains to the family he used to stay with.” Markus closed the file and tucked it under his arm. Must have been that one. “The little girl he cared for loved computers and knew all of the technical stuff like the back of her hand. Chances are, he retained most of it and can help us set up a server.”

“If not, just let me know. We can set one up for you guys here. Private server, exclusive access. Only the Jericho leaders will be able to access it,” Hank nodded at Connor and Caleb. “Plus the twins.”

  
  


The four of them were in agreement. If Simon couldn’t get a server up and running soon, then the DPD would provide one. Or he and Jeff probably would be the ones to do it. But if that was what it took to get these people safe, to get them feeling better about still living among the few thousand humans that stayed in Detroit? Then that was what Hank would do. They were just scared people trying to live their lives. That wasn’t a goddamn crime. So with a noncommittal wave, he pushed up out of the chair and let the boys sift through the files. Though there was no way he left without messing up their hair first. Well, the twins at least, seeing as Markus didn’t have much hair to mess with. Connor just huffed and moved to fix it silently, while Caleb made some sort of upset fax machine noise and scrambled to try and mess up Hank’s hair. Alright, fair’s fair. He probably would have if Markus told him not to. Hank just...laughed at the brothers, at his  _ sons, _ and told them to get him if they needed anything else. 

It was...oddly refreshing to be a father again.

  
  
  
  



	24. 'Cause I'm Lonely

_ November 15th 2038 2:51 PM _

  
  


Luckily he didn’t have too much of a workload at the moment. A couple of other people - Miller, Chen, and unfortunately Reed - were assigned to help with android cases. Speaking of, Reed was the only one he hadn’t seen yet that day. The man was a textbook workaholic, Hank honestly couldn’t remember if the guy ever took a personal day. Then again, he never cared enough to notice before. Frankly, he only cared a little bit more now than he used to. That was mostly for Elijah’s sake to be honest. Had he expected to end up being tense friends with Elijah Kamski? Fucking no, of course not. But such was life, and life liked to throw things at Hank just to see what would happen. Though then again, life got fucked by Elijah deciding to make sure his son didn’t  _ actually _ die that night. 

Whatever it was going on with Reed, he wanted to know. Partially because he was the guy’s superior. Mostly because he knew the poor fuck’s past now. Maybe he was going soft, Hank mused to himself. Or maybe he was always soft and a few bad years and somehow tricked him into thinking otherwise. He could remember caring about Reed and basically being his mentor, the intel shared and the pride at when things would go right. As much as he would have liked to put that tentative friendship back together, he knew there was probably no point. Unless. Unless he brought up Elijah and Chloe, Hank would have to be a fool not to see the way Reed’s gaze lingered on someone whenever they mentioned the Chloe models. Next time he saw the guy, he’d have to ask. During work hours probably wasn’t the best and could be pretty counterintuitive. But shit, it was the best option he had. 

In the meantime he will work on whatever case he had open in front of himself at his terminal. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle; a homicide and attempted murder, perp on the loose but the victim was able to provide a description of an AJ700 android. Which, because of how many had been around, made it that much harder. Hank ran his hands through his hair before looking over and catching Tina’s eye. She was such a sweet woman, always trying her best and trying to keep the peace when things would go to shit in the office. Though she herself could be quite the little shit. Tina held up a finger at Hank with a grin, indicating that she wanted him to wait. Hank watched as she giggled to herself and reached into a drawer in her desk. That same gesture with now boisterous laughter. Then she got her hands in a position Hank new all too well and-- 

She flung a sparkly hot pink hair tie at him from across the bullpen. It landed somewhere near his head. Well, that would require it to have landed on something that wasn’t his desk. It was more of the thing shooting across the bullpen and breakneck speeds, thumping against the plexiglass wall with some mementos, and then it landed on the pile of paper he had on the side. Tina apparently thought it was hilarious. Hank thought she could have poked his damn eye out if she wasn’t careful. But it was nice to hear her laugh, the building could use some of that right now with all the stress going on. Hank just shook his head and shouted his thanks at her before picking it up and putting it in his hair. It had been a hot minute since he last had his hair long enough to put into a small ponytail, but his hands hadn’t forgotten how to put it up. Some of hsi hair wasn’t long enough to go back and it probably looked a little awkward on him now. But it was more or less out of his face, he could just tuck the locks behind his ears or something. 

Though as fate would have it, Reed happened to push his way through the doors and heavily sit in his chair. He honestly looked like shit. Sure hsi hair was pretty unkempt at times, but it looked like a goddamn bird’s nest right now. He was shaky, well he probably was considering the fact that he stopped for a second to look down at his hand before shoving it into his jacket pocket. He was unsteady on his feet a little bit, swaying just enough to cause Tina to ask him if he had a good night. The bite in Reed’s voice wasn’t even there as he told her he didn’t. Mirthless. He laughed dryly, probably more to himself more than anything, before shaking his head and making a beeline toward the break room. For a fraction of a second, Hank saw himself in Reed. As much as he wanted to push the worry aside there was no way he could. Reed was in his thirties, he was a smoker, sure, but he still had a whole hell of a lot of his life left to live. Call him hypocritical, but he just couldn’t watch as Reed made the same mistakes he did. Especially now that he knew the shit about his mom. Without so much as even a glance at Tina, Hank followed Reed into the break room. Though it was kind of funny to listen to Reed mutter to himself at the coffee maker. 

  
  


“Fuckin’ androids, tin cans, fuckin’ asshole brother. Half-brother but whole dipshit,  _ fuck. _ ” Reed continued to grumble to himself, he had no idea Hank was there. “Fuckin’ things think they’re  _ alive. _ Why do they get to live, huh? Why do they get a choice when no one else did? Why do they get a goddamn  _ choice _ ?!” He grabbed one of the paper cups and threw it at the floor, staring at it before sighing and bending over to pick it up. “She never got one, so why should they?”

“Maybe,” Reed whirled around and practically growled at Hank as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled over. “Because she never did. Did you ever think of that, Reed? Maybe they get to live because she didn’t.” Hank stepped forward and paused for just a moment. Waiting for Reed’s next move. He had the control here. 

“You have no fucking  _ right  _ to talk to me about that.” The younger detective pointed and then went back to his coffee. Despite the fact that it wasn’t done. “You have no idea what I’m even saying. You also don’t have a right to.”

“Oh, no, I do. Your brother told me. That’s why you hate androids, isn’t it? Because one was supposed to keep your mom alive in the most basic sense, but it never happened.” Hank watched Reed fume and stomp around the break room to grab what he needed for his coffee. Occupying himself so he didn’t break. Smart. “You see her everywhere even though it’s not her, so you get angry instead of sad because you’re not sure what else you’d do.”

  
  


That must have been it. Reed turned on his heel, grabbing Hank by his shirt collar and shoving him against the plexiglass wall. He was breathing heavy, eyes wet and body shaking. His hands fumbled with the collar. They shouldn’t have unless something was wrong. Hank’s mind immediately went to the things he knew about Reed as a beat cop, he was prideful to a fault and a workaholic, he used to ignore things about his body until someone else pointed it out. If he was working a case then he wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t sleep, he didn’t drink anything unless someone brought it to him. This was the exact same scenario. This was that exact Gavin Reed in his early twenties, who was so one-way that it was self-destructive. Reed had always been like that, sure, but this time it was different. The bags under his eyes darker, the shake in his body more intense, his eyes just a little too unfocused for Hank’s comfort. 

So it wasn’t all that surprising that Hank had to grab him as he swayed on his feet. 

He half fell against Hank, hands going slack and breathing more shallow than what should have been acceptable to him. But Reed never really cared. Not that Hank could remember entirely, he was fucking blitzed half the time he was at work in recent years. That was beside the point, so very incredibly beside the point. He shouted for someone, anyone honestly, to come and help him. He didn’t know Reed like he used to, he didn’t know how to help him. But… But Tina might. He always thought Reed was closer with her. Fuck, if Markus wasn’t in the archives he would have shouted for him. He had all that caretaker stuff in his head, all that medical information, he probably could have done so much more and could have done it quickly. Though his son wasn’t there, none of his sons were there. So Hank shouted and hollered for Tina as loud as he could, he wasn’t sure how well anyone would be able to hear him. He hoped they could. He really did. 

Tina was in the room in an instant, eyes landing on Reed and rushing to crouch over him with Hank. It wasn’t until then that he realised he was on the ground, holding Reed half in his lap and holding his hand over the kid’s forehead. Just like with Cole, just like the night of the crash. Reed was okay enough that he forced Hank’s arms off of him and sat by himself on the floor. He glared at the older detective, though there was just a little bit of the way Hank used to see him look. The way someone looked at their hero. That was back, even in just the slightest. It made Hank smile slightly as he asked Tina to go grab Markus from the archive room, he could help a lot better than the two of them could at the moment. Tina gave the two detectives a weary look but got up to go get him anyway. Reed paled a little bit at the mention of the Deviant Leader, or maybe he was just pale to begin with. He probably could have collapsed if Hank hadn’t caught him.

  
  


“You’re not taking care of yourself again, Reed.”

“Like you’re one to talk, you drunk old fuck.” Reed scowled, and boy did Hank see a bit of himself in it. “I’m surprised you even fuckin’ care anymore…”

“Course I do, kid. You were the first kid I trained that actually made it to Detective.” Hank grimaced slightly at Reed’s snort and wry smile. “What I mean is that I stopped caring somewhere along the way and I’m sorry. But I do have something to tell you about your brother.”

“Eli can go get fucked.”

“Usually I’d agree with ya there,” Hank couldn’t help the soft huff of a laugh at the way Reed crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to Hank. “But it has to do with Cole, and your mother. I figured you’ve got a right to know, considering.”

“I’m listening.” Reed looked like he was holding his breath. Hank didn’t comment on it. 

“You know Markus, the Deviant Leader? He’s not just an android. Well, technically he is, but he’s also not? Honestly, I’ve got no idea what the fuck’s goin’ on there.” Hank scratched at his beard and watched the coffee drip into the pot. He pretended not to notice the way Reed’s breath hitched. “He’s my son. He’s Cole.”

“That’s impossible. Eli said that mom couldn’t be transferred…” Reed’s voice was quiet, soft. “He said it wasn’t done, and she wouldn’t make it even if it was…”

“Maybe that’s true, maybe it’s not. But Cole’s in there. He’s very different. But it’s still him.” Hank let his head rest against the plexiglass and looked up at the ceiling, tracing markings in it with his eyes. “He knew where Sumo’s leash was. I never said anything or pointed it out, but when I told him he could take his dog for a walk with his brother, he ran to grab it. He  _ knew, _ and he  _ knows; _ he remembers shit, Reed. It’s him.”

“It can’t be…”

“Gavin,” Hank turned so he could look at the detective, who looked so much younger than he was with his eyes filled with tears. “Your brother even said it was when he went to him for answers. Isn’t it enough to know that because you mom was alive, that my son is, too?”

  
  


Reed’s face looked like he was going through the five stages of grief all over again. He looked like he was having some sort of crisis. Hank didn’t...know what to do. He remembered very clearly that Gavin didn’t like to be touched, he always had some sort of negative reaction to it. So Hank didn’t touch him. He simply sat with him on the ground, listening as almost frantic footsteps were followed by even and heavy ones. Tina had Markus. He always walked with authority, even if he was a bit heavy in his footsteps. Suddenly Hank wondered how much of Gavin he remembered. Or if he even remembered the man at all, and how important to the little boy he used to be. He wondered if Markus could remember the hospital visits when Gavin got hurt, or the days they went to the park together, or the fact that Gavin used to babysit him. 

Hank glanced at Reed as the footsteps got closer, and wondered if Markus could remember his self-proclaimed Uncle Gavin. 

  
  
  
  



	25. I Am Lonely When You're In The Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three chapters in one day after an unintentional week-long hiatus is acceptable, right? yeah, totally, absolutely (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

_ November 15th 2038 3:02 PM _

  
  


Markus looked at the two humans on the floor with confusion. One of them was his father, who was the person he had assumed needed his help. However, next to him was a man who was hunched in on himself and avoiding looking at him. But Markus could still see him. He didn’t know why that was so important to him. It must have been the caretaker in him, assuring the person was lucid and aware of their surroundings to ensure they wouldn’t accidentally hurt themselves. Markus crouched down in front of the other man and tried to get him to look into his eyes. Even with gentle coaxing from him, Officer Tina, and his father; the Detective wouldn’t meet his eyes. It wasn’t that he couldn’t, but that he actively seemed to be choosing not to. Further worrying Markus of his condition. He could run a scan, but it was so much easier to do that while taking a pulse. The physical contact allowed more information to be taken in. Without the Detective’s explicit permission, he didn’t want to do it. What if he didn’t want to be touched in his current state? Though what if he was unable to answer for himself at the moment as well? 

He turned to his father, heterochromatic eyes finding a pale blue that instantly calmed him down and gave him control again. It was okay. Right? Officer Tina said that he needed his help. So it had to be okay, seeing as his father was the one who started to explain things. The Detective hadn’t been taking care of himself and nearly fainted, though from what they were unsure. Thus they needed someone to look at him and make sure it wasn’t dangerous. That he wasn’t hurting himself, and then everything would be okay. With that information, combined with careful and precise movements, Markus sat directly in front of the Detective and smiled at him. Even if he knew the man couldn’t see it. He knew that he would hear the soft smile in his words. Humans--  _ People _ had a way of being able to tell those sorts of things. Markus spoke with a gentle and quiet voice as to not spook the Detective. Though it elicited a negative response from him, his shoulders hunched in even more and he turned away. From what little information Markus could gather from his body language alone, he was  _ very _ uncomfortable. 

A different tactic might work then. A gentle voice explaining everything that he needed to do in order to make sure he was alight. He even ended his speech with a slight lift, almost like saying things in a questioning tone. He asked if the Detective would allow him to look into his eyes for confirmation he was lucid. There was a slight huff of annoyance, which Markus took as a good sign, and then the human lifted his head enough for Markus to see his eyes. They were a blue-grey, how...pretty. Markus barely got a chance to tell him that, seeing as his pupils dilated and his face screwed up in pain. No, no, he didn’t look like he had any external injuries. Did he have internal injuries? Head trauma? Concussion? Irregularities in his mood? Markus ran a hand over his head and gave a thin lipped smile to the increasingly tense Detective. Something… Something about him screamed at Markus. Made his code feel like it was burning into him as fragments of heavily distorted and glitched memories tried their best to play across his vision. 

All Markus could do was push it to the side as best he could while reaching out to the Detective. He slowly and carefully reached out and put a hand on the man’s knee. He flinched back, curling in on himself and slamming his back into the plexiglass wall behind himself. Markus quickly told Officer Tina to leave the room and make sure no one came inside until the three of them exited it. She nodded and left the room, almost standing guard outside of it. With one less thing to worry about adding to the Detective’s growing anxieties, Markus focused back on him. His father had moved, giving the other human space. Okay, so he wasn’t too keen on touch. That was okay, that was perfectly fine. Honestly speaking, Markus wasn’t too sure where he stood on it anymore either. At least not with people he didn’t know. He understood the Detective’s apparent want to not be touched, they didn’t know each other. Markus wouldn’t want to be physically interacted with when he didn’t know the person who was trying to touch him. 

He expressed that, explaining that he understood the basics of why the Detective didn’t want to be touched by someone he didn’t know. However, it did nothing to calm the man down. It actually seemed to rile him up even more. His breathing got a bit more shallow and he started shaking his head while mumbling to himself. Though he never once looked away from Markus’ eyes. More specifically; the Detective never looked away from Markus’  _ green _ eye. Sure, heterochromia was a purely human condition, but it wasn’t as rare as people really thought it was. It affected one percent of the global population; thus making it a fairly uncommon condition. Maybe he had never seen someone with heterochromia before. Markus chose to believe that statement rather than the alternative that the man had somehow known something he hadn’t. 

Somehow in the short amount of time the two had watched each other, the man started to slip into a panic. Which, in a very unprofessional manner might he add, caused Markus to fumble a bit with his words as he explained the Detective needed to calm down. Though his voice was still even. Still soft. He still gave the Detective a thin lipped smile and spoke kindly to him, looking directly into his blue-grey eyes and telling him that everything will be alright. It set him off. The Detective curled in on himself, staring wide-eyed at Markus, and huffing out uneven breaths. No, no that was supposed to calm him down. That was supposed to calm him down! Markus put his hands out, all tact forgotten as he pushed them out and tried to comfort the human. He was going to hyperventilate if Markus didn’t fix it. If he couldn’t fix it, they wouldn’t know what was wrong. If they didn’t know what was wrong, then they couldn’t help him. Though, a small part of Markus’ mind asked him, how did he even know the man wanted to be helped?

  
  


“No, no, no, no, no--”

“Detective, I promise you that I won’t touch you without your explicit permission. But  _ please, _ ” Markus put his hands out, palms up to show the detective that he meant his words. “I need you to calm down and stay still so I can scan you at least.”

“No-- You can’t-- It’s not fucking  _ fair-- _ ” 

  
  


He lurched forward and huffed out uneven breaths. Panic attack. For whatever reason, the scene in front of Markus made his head hurt. It made a pressure build in his chest as he watched the man before him gasp and watch the world around him without really seeing. The distant and cold glassiness of his eyes, a blue-grey that reminded him of thunderstorms, made his chest hurt. The way the Detective’s hands shook made Markus’ eyes sting and burn like he was about to burst into tears. The shuddering and stuttering breaths coming from the human made his code scream out that something was  _ wrong _ and he needed to fix it. He needed to fix the situation and help the Detective to the best of his ability. He didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t know what to do. He became very overwhelmed so quickly, he was rendered useless. Markus was useless. 

_ Markus was useless.  _

_ Cole Anderson was not. _

He had comforted that one deviant the night of the demonstration with that part of himself. Utilized his past and allowed himself to connect with the deviant as a young boy comforting a scared friend. Young being to young being. In this case, human to human. All Markus had to do was remember if he had met the Detective or not. Which was easier said than done. In theory he should have been able to tell just from one look, that was all it took for the others to make him remember things from time to time. Other times he was grasping at straws, sand was sifting through his fingers as he so desperately tried to hold on to it. He didn’t understand, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t remember.  _ He couldn’t remember. _ How the hell could he help him with the skills he had as a human  _ child _ if he couldn’t remember if he knew the man  _ as _ said child?

Markus...didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do, so he grabbed the Detective. It was something he would have done when he was still human. He grabbed the Detective and hugged him. Against his better judgement, against his father’s wishes, against the Detective’s wishes. But he grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him close, wrapping his arms tightly around the human as he struggled to get away. Scan. He had to scan him. See how he was doing, see if he needed to see medical personnel. Though the soft pained sound that came from the man made Markus stop before he even started. That was a sound of anguish from the very soul. One that made Markus feel the weariness and pain and fear that was buried inside of it. Grief. That was what the sound came out with; an intense and overwhelming sense of  _ grief. _

The feeling of the leather under his fingers, the faint smell of cologne, the soft brush of hair against his cheek. The way those arms wrapped around him, and the way the body leaned into his as if Markus might disappear if the Detective didn’t hold onto him so tightly. It hurt. The sensations and smells and feelings  _ hurt. _ Markus pressed his face into the Detective’s shoulder and made a low sound. Some that gave off it’s own sense of pain. Of longing. Of love. He didn’t know why, he didn’t understand it. His head hurt, why did his head hurt? It wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to feel pain like he did when he was human. Mister Kamski said that his memories didn’t hurt him. He said that, ideally, his memories shouldn’t--  _ His memories  _ **_shouldn’t_ ** _ hurt him. _ Markus had some part of his mind remember, but the rest of him didn’t, so the memory that was trying to resurface hurt. 

But there it was. Faded and staticy, it looked like it was underwater and far away. Of the man he was holding, hugging against himself as if their lives depended on it. He was in a hospital bed because of an injury, then another injury, then another one; though the man wore a great big smile every time he came to visit. He laughed and he joked around and gave him hugs and kisses on the cheek. He told him he loved him and that they’d go to the park once he got better. Then the memories of the park; the swings and the sides and the jungle gym, the way they ran around with Sumo, the fun they had in the sandbox together. Every visit to the park was something fun, something special. They always ended with a promise they could come back when the time permitted it. Then there were the memories of when the time or weather hadn’t permitted it. They played games at home, read books together, made dinner together while waiting for his dad to get home. Or sometimes they would go to the museum or aquarium or to the arcade. They always ended with him either at home or in the car being promised that he would visit again soon and they could go to the park then. 

There were memories of him waking up at the man’s house after having fallen asleep in his own bed at home. Promises of pancakes and going to walk Sumo together. Of riding bikes and making sure to help with homework. Always being sympathetic when the math problems were too hard, and helping to explain them easily and in a way he could understand flawlessly. The memories of them all together. At home, at the park, the aquarium, the museum, the DPD. One of the very last memories he had of the man was of him peeling off the bandage on his nose with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as Markus was sat up on the desk and watching in awe as the scar tissue moved when the rest of his skin did. Of making an incredulous noise at the pink skin and moving to gently run his fingers over it, it was much smoother than the rest of the skin on the man’s face. It almost felt like silk in a way, and crinkled differently when the man scrunched up his nose. 

A murky memory of him exclaiming that his Uncle Gavin looked really cool was the last thing he saw before his vision focused back on the world around them both. 

  
  


“Uncle Gavin…?” Markus’ voice betrayed him a bit, blending and bleeding into the voice he once had as a human child. He held Gavin in his arms as he tensed up and then started to sob into his jacket. “Uncle Gavin, are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I am, I’m-- Shi--  _ Shoot, _ I’m perfect.” A wet laugh came from Gavin as he gently cupped the back of Markus’ head and rubbed his back while swaying side to side. “I’m okay, kiddo. What about you?” Gavin pulled away slightly, keeping his hands on Markus’ shoulders but looking into his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I am. Now, I am.” Markus gave a beaming smile like the ones he used to when he was a child, and then gave Gavin a kiss on the cheek before burying his face in his uncle’s shoulder. “I’m perfect, too.”

  
  
  



	26. And I'm Tired, Too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unintentional hiatus again, the east coast of the us got blasted by a tropical storm and we lost power for five days!! so I couldn't post this until now, but here you go, i hope you enjoy it despite the wait

_November 15th 2038 4:42 PM_

  
  


Ordinarily, he wouldn’t be one to complain about having family over. It had been such a long time since he was able to say he had a proper family gathering. If North wasn’t so, well, _confrontational,_ then Markus wouldn’t be as worried as he was. But North was North, and his Uncle Gavin was his Uncle Gavin. Though on the upside, he would be able to meet Officer Chris’ family tonight! He was looking forward to meeting little Damian, Markus had never really seen a baby before. Well, not that he could remember at least. He absently wondered to himself about how small he would be as he pet Sumo behind his ears. Connor was in the front seat with Hank, Caleb and Sumo with Markus in the back. It wasn’t like it was a long drive. It was actually a relatively short one considering how big Detroit was without it’s other inhabitants. That didn’t really matter though, as they pulled up to the house and Markus saw Uncle Jeff getting out of his car. 

Connor grabbed the small amount of groceries for dinner and got out of the car, pulling his seat forward and letting his brothers out. Sumo bounded out of the car to greet the other human in the driveway eagerly. It was...nice. Markus found himself grinning and only feeling a little distressed. It wouldn’t be a full family gathering, there would always be someone else missing. From every dinner, every birthday, every special occasion. Carl would always be missing. But, Markus thought to himself with a smile as he watched his family laugh and smile together, he could live with that as long as things kept moving forward. Maybe… Markus went inside with his family to greet the people who were waiting inside with a soft smile. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He hoped it wouldn’t be at least. He hoped that his families would get along, and so desperately prayed to Ra9 that North wouldn’t punch anyone. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_November 15th 2038 6:15 PM_

  
  


It wasn’t a complete disaster at least? Gavin and Hank seemed to rekindle some friendship that had faded, Chris and Josh actually got along very well, North - for reasons completely unknown to literally everyone in the damn house - legitimately had a great time talking with Jeff about varying topics. Currently, Markus sat on one of the couches with Simon, bouncing Damian in his arms gently and quietly telling him about things in the house. Simon seemed...proud. He watched on with a careful eye and a smile. Markus couldn’t help but smile back at him, though it usually turned into a grin whenever he noticed Damian looking up at him. Which, of course, meant that he wanted to see if Damian could understand some of the things around him. Thus leading to Markus making a soft sound as he stood up and made his way over to the piano. 

It looked exactly the same as he remembered it, it hadn’t changed at all. Though for whatever reason he saw it in a different light. It was faded now, it wasn’t as lustrous or as fantastical anymore. But it was his. That piano was always his. It may have been Carl’s, but he always used to say that he loved the way Markus played, how he could start to _feel_ something in it. That it started to grow and change. Markus sat down at the piano with Damian supported in his lap. The baby didn’t know what to do. Not that Markus expected him to, of course. But he thought it was interesting how humans grew and changed. It seemed so...odd that he had been that small once. Markus smiled down at Damian as he gently repositioned the baby to sit upright in his lap. He couldn’t _exactly_ reach the keys, so Markus lifted him a bit. Almost by some strange instinct, Damian let out a small sound and smacked his hands down on the keys. A dissonant sound came from them, causing the room to go quiet from the sudden loud noise. 

For a second, Markus thought Damian might have begun to have a meltdown from the loud noise. But the baby reached a tiny hand out again and smacked against a few keys. A delighted noise came from him as he started slamming his hands down on the keys frantically. Shooting an apologetic face at Chris, Markus shrugged and just moved Damian so he could reach some of the lower notes. However, much to his delight, Chris’ wife had her phone out and was recording the ordeal. He’d have to ask for it to be sent to him after. He also made a mental note to buy Damian a baby keyboard for Christmas. The group of humans and androids started to disperse around the house a bit after that, though most of them stuck by the piano. If not for the wonderful excited sounds Damian made; then probably for the expressions Markus made in return. He had no doubt some of the faces he made would be good for family blackmail material. 

“You’re good with him.” Simon stood behind Markus and put his hands down on his shoulders. He greeted Chris softly as he came to the trio at the piano. “He’s very happy, you’re raising him well.”

“Aw jeez, thanks man. Couldn’t have done it without my kickass wife though, she’s the one who had to do all the hard work.” Chris patted Damian’s cheek gently before poking a few keys to encourage the baby to keep playing with them. They got a loud dissonant sound in response. “But I like to think I’m doing a good job with him. I really gotta get more time off so I can spend more time with him at home.” 

“I think that you’re doing great with him regardless.” 

  
  


Chris ducked his head sheepishly almost, and thanked Simon for his words. Markus was about to hand Damian back to him, but Chris shook his head and told him to keep holding the baby. It would be good for him to get acquainted with the people he would see more often. Markus...didn’t know what to say. Or how to react. He just held onto Damian as he slapped his little hands against the keys wildly. He looked down at the baby in his hands, so small and so young, he was clay ready to be molded and shaped into the person he would become later in life. Markus grinned up at Chris and thanked him. He wasn’t exactly sure what for, and he was fairly sure the human didn’t know either, but neither of them missed the sentiment. As Chris made his way to some of the others, Markus devised a plan. Introduce Damian to the androids in the house. More specifically, he wanted to introduce Josh to Damian. Not that he’d be the best conversation partner, but Markus thought the man might enjoy seeing how delightful Damian was. 

Without any further ado, Markus gently hushed Damian as he began to fuss and got up from the piano to find Josh. Luckily there was no meltdown from the boy as they walked away from it. However, he seemed to have no problem with being up and away from the piano. Probably because of the assortment of strange items in the room. Well, it was really only the giraffe that was...odd. Though Markus and Damian made their way over nonetheless, and Markus held the small boy up to it. He patted at the taxidermied animal somewhat roughly, and stroked it’s fur with uncoordinated hands. Damian made small sounds, though Markus had no idea what was going on. He accepted that Damian was having a fun time with the giraffe, and opted to call Josh over instead of moving the boy away from the object of his current desires. 

It was actually...pretty adorable to watch as Josh’s eyes went wide and he grinned while making his way over. He stumbled over his own feet once or twice, not that Markus would tell, and his eyes practically sparkled at Damian. Though try as he might, he didn’t know what to say. It came out in fragmented sentences and stammers. Markus didn’t have the heart to tell him that Damian likely had no idea what was going on and just liked the feeling of the giraffe’s fur on his hands. Though he stood with Damian on his hip, slightly swaying from side to side as Simon had instructed him to do, and bounced the baby lightly as Josh continued to speak to him. It was very obvious that most of the deviants in the house had never even seen a human infant. Simon was the exception, of course, seeing as he had taken care of multiple children over the years. 

The thought was entertaining, actually. As Markus watched his friend interact with the infant, he adjusted him slightly. Not so much as to jostle him away from the giraffe, but enough to secure his hold on the little boy. It was...interesting to say the least. Markus thought about his life as Cole. How he would have liked to have younger siblings, wanted to have a younger brother in the very least. But he never got the chance to, not while he was wholly human at least. He suddenly wondered if, in some other life, he might have held an infant like he was now. Only with arms made of flesh and blood, muscle and bone. Would he and Connor still be brothers? Him and Caleb? Hell, him and Josh? The thoughts were...distracting. He was meant to keep his attention on Damian so nothing happened to him. He was daydreaming again. Of what could have _been,_ rather than what could _be._ His mind was stuck in the past again, and that was no good for anyone at the house right now. 

Markus handed Damian off to Josh and sought out North. She always knew what to do or what to say. As a friend, as family, as his makeshift mother. She was a guide for him when he had no other ideas. They brainstormed together and made solutions. While she didn’t always agree with Markus’ choices, she made sure to always support them. He couldn’t ask for anything better. He wandered into the studio, where he found North and Jeff speaking with one another. It was about android rights, they both were quite animated as they spoke. A soft smile on Jeff’s face whenever North would raise her voice and get worked up about something. Though it wasn’t condescending. It was fond. He looked...proud of her for speaking her mind. For speaking out against all of the bad things humans had done and how to start fixing them; and for the most part, Jeff agreed with her. Markus had almost turned on his heel to let them have the time to speak with one another. He had no idea when the next opportunity they could all get together like this would be.Though Jeff waved him inside and still had that fond smile, albeit a tad more melancholy now. 

“What brings you in the studio?” Jeff gave an exaggerated sweep of his arm that made Markus attempt to press down a giggle, and fail horribly. Jeff’s smile became happier at it. 

“I was wondering if I could speak with North privately,” Markus turned to her and raised his brows a bit in question. “If that’s alright with you both?”

“Sure, kiddo. You two have fun talking about whatever it is Deviant Leaders talk about.”

  
  


Markus gently put his hand atop his Uncle Jeff’s on his shoulder before the man pulled away and went back into the living room. The two leaders watched him go and didn't speak until after the doors had slid closed. Even then, it took Markus a moment to find his voice and to turn to his companion. To his friend. A member of his family. When Markus finally turned, he saw a slight scowl on North’s face. Her arms were crossed and she looked more than displeased. In fact, she looked almost disappointed. He tried not to let it get to him. He really did. But the fact that she wore that face right after his Uncle Jeff had left the room hit him in a soft spot. 

  
  


“Why are you making that face?”

“He asked me if I ever saw you acting differently,” North uncrossed her arms and began to pace. “He basically asked if I even really _knew_ you, Markus.”

“Now, I’m sure he has a reason for it. He was my uncle before, he loved, and still does love, me very dearly.” A small smile graced Markus’ lips and he glanced at the sliding doors before looking back at North. “I’m sure he meant nothing by it and was only asking because he was curious about how much of me you’ve seen.”

“I’ve seen enough of you.” North stopped pacing and gave him a meek smile. “I know enough about you, then and now, to know you’re family. You always will be.”

“Well, then how about I go introduce you to the rest of my family?” Markus held an arm out dramatically, grinning when North rolled her eyes and took it. “And we can do it _properly_ this time. Introductions and everything.”

  
  


The two walked out arm in arm, and Markus couldn’t help the excited sound that came out of him when he caught Damian’s eye. He waved at the baby and dragged North over. Again, Damian wouldn’t be able to hold a proper conversation, but he was thinking that it would matter. Markus watched in awe as North gently extended a hand and brushed her knuckles against the baby’s cheek. It was...quite the development. He had never seen her so soft before, not even with himself when he was small. This was...entirely different. This was North. But. Just slightly off from what he knew her as. Markus couldn’t help the delighted sound that came from him when Damian grabbed at North’s hand and held it. As he watched the two of them interact. Two very young beings, in the first stages of their lives, fumbling and trying to understand just how living really worked. 

One made of flesh and blood and bone and muscle.

One made of plastic and wires and thirium lines and binary code. 

Both coming together to experience something no one really understood, and to start to try and understand it together.

  
  
  
  



	27. It's The Distance That's Dragging Us Down

_December 19th 2038 8:31 AM_

  
  


Honestly, the only good things about this was the fact that Hank would be just a little more south. Not a lot, barely at all actually. But a small reprieve was one nonetheless, and Hank would take the time off to do something with his-- His _kids._ Hank was taking some well-earned time off to go take his kids for a small holiday getaway. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t think they’d care. Even if they did, he didn’t think they’d say anything about it. The twins were probably just excited to be doing a human thing, and Markus would be happy to spend that time of year with him again. Besides, he needed a break from his duties as the Deviant Leader. That being said, that was the exact reason why Hank was doing a headcount and making sure all of the deviants under his care were there. 

Simon was talking with Caleb and North currently, Josh with Markus and Connor. Hank just needed to make sure they were going to be okay with being stuck on the road for an hour or so. Simple enough, but it was easier said than done. Sure, the three original leaders were cramped up in a boat for practically anywhere from two days to two years. But that didn’t mean shit when it came to being in the car or being on the highway. Hell, it meant _nothing_ compared to having to stop every couple hours so Hank could get out of the damn car and stretch his legs or go take a piss at some shitty rest stop somewhere. Because god knew that he was gonna be the one driving. Just because Connor and Caleb _could_ drive, didn’t mean that they _should._ Besides, it had been a while since he could just relax and drive somewhere. He kind of wanted this. It would be nice. 

Michigan City Indiana was waiting for them, and frankly, Hank wasn’t sure how he would handle the car ride down there. The others were bound to get restless and want to listen to different music and want their own things on the ride up there. But he knew they would get a kick out of the fact that there was a Michigan City, and it was completely outside of the state. Or he knew that Markus would like it at least. It was the kind of thing that he found funny before, when he was still a human kid. It was weird to think about as he watched Josh and Connor load everyone’s bags into the RV. That his son was...an android. He wondered, briefly, how he’d react to knowing that his father used to be so _anti-android_ once upon a time. Then again, he wondered _briefly._ Hank grinned as everyone got in the vehicle and then climbed in himself. 

Alrighty then! It was three and a half hours to the city, and it was still pretty early in the morning. They had the whole day ahead of them, even if it meant that he had to listen to whatever Deviant Leaders talked about in their free time. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_December 19th 2038 9:56 AM_

  
  


This was hell. Actual, literal, _hell._ An hour and a half into the drive, and Hank had already had to pull into a rest stop twice because the kids were very vocal about being cooped up for too long. While it was mostly Markus and Caleb, and Hank could understand Markus being restless, it had spread to the others very quickly both times. He also had to pull the parent card of telling them he’d turn the damn RV around if they didn’t behave. That one made Simon sit up straight and quickly go back to playing this card game. Hank thought it was _Uno,_ but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that North seemed to be having the time of her life coming up to the front seat to bother him from time to time. Honestly, he liked her. He could deal with her coming up every fifteen minutes and trying to get a reaction out of him before ultimately leaving. Before ultimately coming back. 

Though the thing that was getting to him right now? That was the twins. Caleb, upon realising he was bored outta his skull, decided to take a nap. All things considered, it was probably a good idea. The fact that he fell asleep on his brother wasn’t. Hank could hear the loud whispering across the RV. Connor didn’t wanna wake up his brother, but he wanted to get up to join the card game, but he was worried everyone’s rowdiness would wake up Caleb, but he wanted to get something to drink as well. It was an endless vicious cycle that had Hank gripping the steering wheel tightly enough he could see the veins popping out under his skin and that his knuckles turned white. He pulled into the closest rest stop that he fucking saw, and then sighed. A few hushed murmurs and questions floated in from the back about where they were and all those fun questions a parent got when they tried to take their kids out of state. 

With a slight huff, Hank unbuckled himself and recruited Josh by a movement of his hand. It just about killed his knees, but Hank knelt down on the floor next to the twins and ran a hand through Caleb’s hair. His head was resting on Connor’s shoulder, he looked like he was sitting in his brother’s lap and just fell asleep there. It reminded him of Cole when he was young. How he’d fall asleep in his ex-wife’s lap the same way. Usually when they were watching a movie or show, just something to try and get the kid to fall asleep. Hank pushed away the thought that was of _Cole;_ Markus and Cole were the same person. It wasn’t fair to think like that. As if his son wasn’t his son just because he was cased in plastic instead of muscle. What was the real difference? Humans were sentience in a pile of meat piloting a bone mecha, and androids were sentience in a board piloting a plastic mecha. They were the same when someone really got down to it. 

Hank gently took Caleb in his arms, just like he used to do to Co-- _Markus_ when he was young. They were kids. No matter how a person looked at it, Hank was the only real adult in the car. So he hefted the boy into his arms and then handed him off to Josh after he got to his feet. He set Caleb down on the couch, even stuck a pillow under his head and then gently touched the side of his head where his LED used to be. Hank turned away and awkwardly announced that they could continue their game with Connor, and that he was gonna head back on the road if there were no complaints. There were none. The tension damn near strangled him, but Hank managed to sit back down in the driver’s seat and get back to driving. A part of him told his hands to keep adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. It was irrational. But there was no telling how the roads were in Indiana. An unwanted memory flitted behind his eyelids as he blinked, and he let out a soft shaky breath. North took her spot next to him in the passenger's seat and raised a brow at him. 

  
  


“You okay? You look like you’re...not having a great time.” 

“I, uhh, I’m not great with roads when it’s cold out.” Hank tried to swallow the lump in his throat and will his voice to be even. But the fear in him was almost instinctual. He knew North picked up on it. “Maybe I should have Connor drive a while…”

“Maybe.” Hank could just barely see North give him a smile out of the corner of his eye. Soft and caring. It was something he had only ever seen her give to Markus and Damian. “I’ll go get ‘im.” 

  
  


Just like that, North was gone. With her, the distraction she provided. Though only a moment later she came back with Connor in tow. The kid’s voice was soothing to hear almost. Hank pulled into the fourth rest stop within the hour and a half they had been on the road, and comfortably found himself switching places with his son. Connor in the driver’s seat, and Hank on the couch with Caleb. His head was now in Hank’s lap, and the human was absently looking out the window while playing with the kid’s hair. Every time his fingertips would brush against the scar on Caleb’s head, he would stop for a fraction of a second. Stop and realise why his head felt that way, and then continue in a different spot. But his hand seemed to gravitate toward that spot on his son’s head. Eventually making him realise he made an uncomfortable noise in his throat every time he touched the scar; which made him stop moving his hand altogether and just rest his hand on the top of Caleb’s head. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_December 19th 2038 10:33 AM_

  
  


“Hey Dad?” Markus was sitting on the floor playing _Battleship_ with Simon and Josh. North had taken up her role of bothering whoever was driving at the moment. “Can I ask you a question about Caleb? I promise it’s nothing bad.”

  
  


Hank closed his eyes contentedly when he heard the last bit, snorting in amusement and then turning to face his son. His eldest son. It was still so surreal to him that Cole had survived, and that he had become such an amazing person. He was so fucking proud of him.

  
  


“Sure, shoot.”

“How did you get him?” Markus had that smile again, the one that he used to wear all the time as a little kid. He slipped, he had regressed a bit. He was a little more Cole than Markus. “Like, did he follow you home? Or did you take him with you? Oh, oh! Did Connor deviate him and he decided to stay?”

“Well, kiddo, it’s not a great story.” Hank used his free hand to rub at the back of his neck and then gesture vaguely in Connor’s direction. Connor, who Hank had noticed turned down the volume of the _Knights of the Black Death_ album he was listening to up in the front seat. “But I can tell ya if you’re _really_ sure you wanna hear it.”

“I…” Markus’ brows furrowed slightly and he sat up straighter a little bit. He was more of his present than his past. “I’d like to. If you’re up for telling me.”

“He kidnapped me, believe it or not. Somethin’ about getting Connor to listen to him by threatening my life. The two got in a scuffle, the age old ‘who’s who’ trope, and I tried to figure out which one was Connor.” Hank looked down at Caleb’s sleeping face in his lap and gently stroked his cheek with his knuckles. He avoided looking at the scar. “I was gonna shoot ‘im, take down the threat standing between you and everybody bein’ free. But Connor shoved him. He ducked so he wouldn’t get shot, and shoved his brother to the ground. Bullet grazed his head; and I think that mixed with everything goin’ on, plus the fact Connor did that white hand thing, made him deviate.”

“Connor saved his life…” Markus looked at Hank in a twisted expression of gratitude and horror. Hank just barely saw it when he looked up, Markus quickly looked away after. “He was so scared when he met me. I think I understand why.”

“Like I said,” Hank gently ran his fingertips along the scar where the plastimetal and synthetic skin didn’t properly heal, and sighed heavily. He sagged into the couch as he went back to watching the road go by as Connor drove. “It wasn’t a great story.”

“I think it was.” Simon pitched in, with a soft smile and kind eyes. Not that Hank was looking to see them. He hunched over a bit and just kept a hand on Caleb’s head. Fingers tracing the inch long scar on his temple. “I think that it shows resilience and perseverance, that despite everything; he still stayed. He still loves you. I think it’s a wonderful story of beating the odds.”

“Just like the night of the march,” Markus’s voice had a smile in it, Hank looked over to see his eyes alight with life and a grin on his face. “There’s always the chance unlikely events will take place.”

  
  


Huh, that was...oddly comforting. He kind of liked Simon’s take of it. That it showed Caleb sticking around because he _wanted_ to, not because he felt compelled to. At least that was what Hank hoped it was. He didn’t want Caleb to feel suffocated, like he had to follow in his brother’s footsteps. If Caleb was staying of his own volition, then that would have been everything. Hank wanted nothing more than his son’s safety. Whether that was physically or emotionally. Even if it meant his own discomfort at times, and even if he didn’t always approve. But as long as his kids were safe and happy? Then there was nothing he could see to complain about. His kids were safe. Connor was driving the RV and chatting with North. Markus was playing _Battleship_ with Simon and Josh. Caleb was sound asleep still; though Hank could swear that he saw the faintest of smiles on his face when Simon liked the story.

His kids were safe and happy, thus so was he.

  
  
  
  



	28. I'm Not Blaming You

_ December 19th 2038 12:02 PM _

  
  


Hank talked Connor through backing the RV into the parking space, and then clapped him on the shoulder with a proud grin once he had done it. Connor looked over the goddamn moon at it and turned the vehicle off with a sheepish little smile. They unbuckled themselves and hollered at the others to grab their bags and to go get checked into the hotel. Markus was practically bouncing with excitement. Actually, scratch that. He  _ was, _ Josh was just holding his hand to keep him from running off somewhere. God knew how many times Hank had to run after him when he was a toddler because he was too excited for his own good. The only downsides now were that Hank wouldn’t be able to just pick him up and carry him, and that there was no way that Markus would let himself be carried like that. He didn’t like it when he was a little kid, so there was no way he was gonna like it now. 

Though regardless of what was going on, they got checked into the hotel. The girl up at the counter had to do a double take when she saw the family. Well, it was more of when she saw Markus. That was when Hank noticed the LED on the side of her head. They spoke quietly and she very quickly got the seven of them checked in and told them someone would be around to help with their bags shortly. Then began the awkward feeling Hank got when he saw an android picking up their bags. Was he...supposed to tell him no? It was his job, wasn’t it? He got paid for doing that, right? Hank awkwardly told him he’d carry his own bag to make the guy’s life easier, and didn’t miss the confused look on the kid’s face. Deviant then. For a second, Hank wondered if he was getting treated right. As the head of the Android Crimes division of the DPD, and Lieutenant, he was more than willing to pull a few strings to make sure that boy was being treated right out here. 

But all of that was beside the point. More or less, really. They followed him up to their rooms, and thanked him as they took their bags from the baggage cart. They had those rooms that were connected by a door in the wall. Hank had gotten used to the idea that at least one of the kids was going to come in and bother the others. The four Deviant Leaders were in one room, and Hank was in the other with the twins. He didn’t understand how they could pile on top of each other, but that was their business. As long as they were comfortable. Which, as he looked over to see Caleb flop face first onto the mattress, he figured wouldn’t be much of a problem. For a little bit he listened to them. As they chatted about anything and everything while getting all set up. North opted to keep her bag packed for the time being, saying she’d open it up when they went to bed. 

Hank knew a thing or two about her model. He knew why she didn’t want to get all comfy and why she stayed leaning against the window and watching the world. He gently called out to her and asked if she wanted to go down to the store with him. She eyed him curiously, even when he explained that he forgot his deodorant and needed to get some. But ultimately, North relented and followed Hank out the door. They went about in relative silence. Relative because of the ambient noises of a hotel and how there was always  _ some _ sound in the distance. North didn’t say a word as she walked by his side, and Hank didn’t want to make her feel trapped by conversation. So silence it was, then. He could handle it on the walk to the little corner store and then back to their rooms. At least, he liked to think so. 

Humans, by nature, are very social creatures. They need social interaction with other people shaped beings. Or just other beings in general, Sumo was a big help for Hank in recent years. So to say he felt awkward about silently walking with North was an understatement. He felt like someone had wrung him out and then stuck him on the ground and walked all over him. In short, he was...confused and unable to understand why he felt the need to fill the silence. He hoped that North would hurry up and initiate conversation so he knew she was okay talking with him in the very least. It was obvious that she wasn’t comfortable in there. The fact that it was a moderately sized room with only two beds and a very small bathroom. It couldn’t have been very easy being in there, she was staying as far away from the main part of the room as much as she could. Was it considered such a bad thing to try and help someone out of a situation they didn’t feel comfortable in?

  
  


“Thanks, by the way.” North kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk while they waited for the light to change. Hank didn’t actually look at her just in case it made her nervous. “For getting me out of the room.”

“You were uncomfortable, and I’ve been aching to actually stretch my goddamn legs.” He laughed gently and shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat. “I woulda wanted someone to help me out there. I figured ya wouldn’t mind if I tried to help you.”

  
  


This time the silence was welcomed. It was comfortable and breathable. The two walked into the corner store, which was just a convenience store in all honesty, and Hank told North that she could wander if she wanted. It wasn’t like she couldn’t handle herself when it got down to it. Something like pride crossed her face as she nodded and headed off to another part of the small store. Well, at least she was more or less comfortable around him. As Hank perused the aisles, he realised just how much she shied away from humans. Not that he could blame her. He couldn’t  _ understand _ completely, he never would. But he knew why and that seemed to be enough to get them on common ground. To an understanding in the very least. 

Once a generic deodorant was in his hand, Hank set out to go tell North that he was ready to go. Though he couldn’t bring himself to speak when he entered the aisle. North was playing with one of those shitty gas station toys, a little keychain that was in the shape of an animal. He wondered how long it would take for her to realise there was a pull tab that would make it so the thing lit up and made noise. He decided to watch her and find out. The delicate way her hand moved, gingerly and softly like she was afraid she’d break the keychains. The dog, the cat, a monkey and horse even. She picked them up one by one and turned them over in her hands. It looked like she was actually playing with them, like a kid played with toys. Then it really hit Hank, she  _ was _ a kid. 

Hank announced his presence by softly calling her name, and pressed down a laugh when she nearly threw the damn horse. It looked like her eyes were gonna bug right outta her skull. Though Hank only smiled and asked if she wanted one of the keychains. North got up, hands balled into fists and shoulders squared. Oh yeah, she could absolutely handle herself if anything happened. Hank just shrugged and asked her to pick out a few that she thought the boys might like, turning his back to her and saying she had until he was up at the register. It always worked on Markus when he was a kid. Who was to say it wouldn’t work on North, too?

Soon enough, before he was even halfway to the register, she came back to him with a handful of the annoying little things. Neither of them said anything. Though they exchanged pleasantries with the cashier, and then went on their merry way out of the store. The walk back to the hotel seemed...different. Maybe it was because they both knew why North didn’t want to be in the room. Maybe it was because Hank was dreading everyone pressing the buttons on the keychains. He was going to get a migraine at some point during this trip, that was for damn sure. But, as Hank glanced at North from the corner of his eye and saw her soft little smile, he decided it would be well worth it. 

\---

  
  


_ December 20th 2038 9:07 AM _

  
  


Trying to wrangle six deviants way early in the morning was the worst goddamn thing. It was just as chaotic as trying to get Markus up and ready when he was still going to school. Which, Hank thought as he watched the kids in front of him, was a weird thing to think when his son was still only nine years old. That was beside the point though. The point was; everyone was causing a ruckus and Hank was sure they were going to get a complaint from other patrons of the hotel. Nothing would be done of course, because no one wanted to be seen as discriminatory against the Deviant Leaders. But the possibility was still there, and Hank didn’t much care for it at all. Thus he was trying to get everyone up and ready so they could get out the door and go. The kids still had no idea where they were going, which was good. A surprise is a surprise for a reason. 

Josh and Connor were the easiest to get up. They chatted while getting ready, Connor pulling on a beanie despite the fact he didn’t need it; Josh wrapped a maroon scarf around his neck despite not needing it either. But if they were comfy and ready to go, then Hank wasn’t about to complain. Simon and North were pretty easy as well. Simon got up and ready with little push-back, and North was already in the process of rebraiding her hair while walking out of the bathroom. So basically, it was just Caleb and Markus who were being troublesome. Leave it to young boys to cause trouble. They seemed to revel in trying to make each other laugh. Which would be wonderful and wholesome on any other occasion, but when it was very loud almost screeching laughter? No, no thank you. Hank just wanted to get out the door and to the museum. 

Things were easier with everyone out the door and waiting for the bus outside. Fuck, it was cold. Hank had almost forgotten how shitty it was waiting for public transit in the dead of winter. The kids were having a fun time, though, which was mostly what the trip was for. Markus and the other leaders had been swamped with their “civic duties” for a good couple weeks. The twins were under stress from trying to figure out exactly what they wanted from life. It would be good to get out of Detroit for a little while. To go and spend some time as a family. It was going to be a time to destress and relax for a week or so. They’d be coming back for New Years, but until then it was just smooth sailing in Michigan City. The concept was still strange to him, but Hank liked the idea of a family again. Markus had a way of bringing everyone together, he was like that even as a kid. 

As they got on the bus, Hank wondered if Markus could remember being here when he was just a tiny little thing. He had to be around four years old when they came out here during the holidays. In all honesty, it was a plea to try and fix things between him and his ex-wife. To see just how easy and carefree life was when they were all together. When they were all having fun and existing together. Though, quite obviously, it didn’t really work. Hank wondered how she was doing. He really shouldn’t have, it wasn’t like they stayed friends after the divorce. It wasn’t like they kept in touch after Cole-- It wasn’t like that. So he really shouldn’t have been wondering how she was, what she was doing now, if she was living a good life. They didn’t leave things on good terms. But despite it all, despite himself, Hank looked at Markus chatting with a few random deviants on the bus and wondered if Eileen ever thought about him sometimes. 

Eventually they all got off the bus in front of an old lighthouse. Actually, it was The Old Lighthouse Museum. Right on Lake Michigan, hence the name of the city. Even North looked excited about the whole thing and Hank knew it was a mission accomplished. The group easily blended into another group going in for a tour, and they all waited for their tour guide to come in and lead them all along. Most of the other group going into the lighthouse were human, with the exception of maybe two androids. They immediately honed in on Markus and started shuffling awkwardly. With a slight nudge from Simon, Markus went over to talk to them. It was...sweet. Markus was such a kind person, and Hank absently wondered where he got it from. God knew he and Eileen weren’t always the best role models at times. Gavin was most of the time, though. Maybe it was Carl. He raised Markus in the last three years, so it would make sense for his teachings to stick. 

A guide came into the main area, jogging along in sneakers Hank swore he recognised. Wearing a familiar green turtleneck sweater he remembered buying for a birthday one year. Brown hair slightly greying in areas, and tied up in a high ponytail. Hank swore that his heart stopped as he locked eyes with the tour guide. Big and warm brown eyes meeting sad and blue ones. Hank quickly shook himself out of it, breaking the eye-contact and searching for Markus among the group. Would he even be able to recognise his own mother? Would he be angry with her? Overjoyed to see her? Hank called for his son, gesturing for him to come closer to him and to stick by his side. He could practically feel Eileen’s eyes on him. He didn’t think about it. Markus said he’d catch up with the other deviants at the end of the tour and asked his father what was wrong. 

Hank wondered if Eileen ever thought about their family sometimes. And, he supposed, he’d get an answer if he were to ask.

  
  
  
  



	29. It's Like We're Screaming With No Sound

_December 20th 2038 9:45 AM_

  
  


The fact that he received no answer was...concerning. Markus, being the caretaker that he was at heart, knew that something was wrong. He had vital scanners inside of himself just the same as Connor and Caleb did. That being said, he knew that Hank wasn’t...great. At least not at the moment. He desperately searched his father’s face, quietly asking him, _pleading,_ that he tell him what was wrong. He got no answer. He got a message from Connor telling him to leave it alone for now. He didn’t like it, but he stood down and left it alone for the moment. Besides, the tour was starting. It wasn’t like they could have a family meeting in the middle of a museum. He begrudgingly went along with the rest of the group as they entered the first exhibit. 

They moved slowly through the lighthouse, room after room, tidbit of history after tidbit of history. The others were enjoying themselves at least. Though it seemed the Anderson family was having some...issues at the moment. Markus didn’t understand what was going on. He could calm masses of deviants, debate with the senate, was able to help rekindle old friendships and shape new ones. He was Markus the Deviant Leader, he was both human and machine. He was a feat of both organic life and technology. Yet here he was, being spoken to by some woman with a voice that made his memories flicker. He didn’t know her. He saw the way her posture changed whenever she looked out over the group, maybe she helped work on some of them. Maybe she was uneasy in the presence of the Deviant Leaders. Maybe she was anti-android. If she was, then they needed to leave. Whatever the reason was for her voice slightly changing and her shoulders squaring slightly didn’t matter. He was more concerned with his family at the moment. 

It took a while for the tour to end, much too long for Markus’ liking. He wasn’t surprised to see the woman tense up as their little entourage passed by her. Though, he was surprised to see his father’s hand dart out to gently touch her arm and ask her if they could talk. Markus tried to make his mind understand what was going on. He studied her, took in her appearance and tried to make sense of it. She was on the shorter side, about 5’4” in terms of height, slightly heavier set, had brown hair that was greying at the roots and her temples, and big brown eyes. Big brown eyes. He knew someone with eyes like hers, he knew someone like her. Markus tried to file through the memories he had. The ones he had recovered from right after he deviated. The eyes. _Her eyes._

_His mother’s eyes._

Markus practically scrambled to follow after them, saying he needed to speak with her, too. He could feel Josh gently grab him by the shoulders and tell him not to intrude, Simon politely apologising to the woman, North grabbing his hand and trying to tug him away. But he stayed. He looked at her. He _really_ looked. She was older now, sadder now. His mother… Far away in another state working as a tour guide in a museum. Markus...didn’t understand. He knew that after he had... _died_ the first time, that things would have been tense between his parents. He knew that there was no way they would be able to rekindle any previous friendship they had even after the divorce, so there was no conceivable way for the two of them to be on good terms after… _After._ It was a lot to take in. The way she whispered with Hank, the sideways glances she gave the group of deviants. 

But the _way_ she looked at them was what made him realise this wasn’t his mother anymore. Of course she didn’t know who he was. That her son had survived. Markus hadn’t even known he survived at first. It had taken a few identity crises, many days of trying to understand everything, and talking at length with his family to come to terms with the fact he wasn’t who he used to be anymore. Though he wasn’t another person altogether, either. He was Markus. He was Markus _Anderson,_ and that was enough for him. Though just because he had accepted who he was didn’t mean everyone else he used to know had. Well, virtually everyone back in Detroit did. Though, in all honesty, he felt that their acceptance didn’t weigh as much as his mother’s would. It would be as much as his father’s, his brothers’. 

So listening to her get into an argument with Hank was...disconcerting. It was quickly becoming overwhelming and all too much like the night that Sumo had growled at her for scaring him. Markus...didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do, but he was _supposed_ to. He was the Deviant Leader! He lead his people to freedom and helped them in any way that he could! He stumbled forward on unsteady legs and grabbed his father’s shoulder to steady himself. Markus wanted-- _Needed_ answers. Why did she look at him and his family like that? Why was she taking such a nasty tone with Hank? What was her goddamn _problem_?

  
  


“Oh, and now it’s over here!” Markus tried to hide the flinch when he heard her address him as an it. He wasn’t sure if it worked. “Hank, _you_ of all people should understand what I’m going through! How much these...these _deviants_ are screwing up society!”

“Y’know, at one point I would’ve agreed with you.” Hank wrapped an arm around Markus’ shoulders and gently rubbed at his upper arm soothingly. He relaxed in his father’s hold. “But I actually got a rude awakening with the name Connor. I think you could use one, too, Eileen.”

“I can’t believe you’re-- You’re _actually_ letting it near you? That’s their leader! It’s dangerous!”

“He’s just a little boy…” Hank’s voice was soft. It was hurt and broken, and he looked down at the ground while tightening his grip around Markus. “He’s just a boy, he’s my boy. _Our_ boy, Eileen! He’s Cole!”

“You expect me to believe--”

“I’m sorry, but,” Markus finally spoke up, he knew better than to before then. “What did androids do to you? What did _I_ ever do to you? Mom, why do you hate us?”

“Fuck you.” She sneered and pointed at Hank, poking him in the chest and shaking her head. “You can live your disillusioned life, Hank. But I’m trying to move on. Our son is _dead,_ he _died._ I don’t care what you do with your life. With _that._ ” She pointed at Markus with a glare. “But I don’t want it anywhere near _me._ ” 

  
  


All Markus was aware of was that he had immediately burst into tears, his voice faded and blended back into the one he used to have when he was human, and he called after her. He called after the woman he had called his mother for six years because… Well, he didn’t know the because of it. He loved her… He loved her, and she loved him. Gave him kisses, helped teach him about life, hugged him and made him hot cocoa when it was cold out. He loved her; and she just left him to dissolve into a puddle of tears. She didn’t look back, though she did pause for a moment. She continued on. Her ponytail swishing with every step she took away from her family. _Their_ family. 

He barely registered his family gathering around him. Of the other Jericho leaders trying to interface with him to calm him down. Of his little brothers almost frantically trying to hug him and let him try to sort out what had just happened. But he _knew_ his father was there. Through tears and a static-ridden voice, Markus called for him. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. They were supposed to get away from stress and be able to exist and relax as a family. A scared little part of him said this was always how it would be; shunned from humanity for not being human anymore, and put on a pedestal by deviants for freeing them. He didn’t want the pressure. He just wanted… He wasn’t exactly sure of what he wanted. 

Markus supposed he just wanted to _be._

Was that not enough?

To simply exist with his family by his side. While the human parts of it would inevitably grow old and wither… He was human once. He died twice. He had three chances at life and all of them seemed like they weren’t doing much. The only reason he got anywhere was because he had helped people, had freed them of their shackles and let them pursue their own lives. Though still they were not free. There would always be someone who would look at them in scorn, who would say they were ruining society, that those who accepted them were disillusioned. It was stressful. The first day to explore in this city, and he already wanted to go home. Not back to Detroit necessarily. Markus wanted to go _home._ He wanted his paintings, he wanted the giraffe, the globe he spun. But he wanted his room with the comic books, he wanted the dusty old books his dad would read to him, he wanted Sumo. 

The next...whatever amount of time was a blur. He wasn’t exactly sure when they got back to the hotel. Nor was he exactly sure who had put him into his soft pajamas. Though Markus elected to ask questions later and accept the warm thirium Simon handed him, and sipped at it gently. Even though there was a high chance he wouldn’t be able to actually feel it, he still didn’t want to get burned. He only half listened to the conversations going on around him. Of North stomping in the other room while rambling angrily to no one in particular. It might have been to herself to try and blow off some steam. Markus listened to Simon and Josh discuss his current state of mind, both of them were very worried about how he reacted to the rejection. The twins were huddled up with him on the bed - Markus had no idea how he got there or who might have tucked him into the blankets - on either side of him. They didn’t speak, but an open interface connected the three brothers, and Caleb softly said hello while Connor said they would make sure he was okay. Which left Hank. Who was standing at the window with his arms crossed, watching the city streets below them all. 

“Who needs her, huh, Markus?” Hank suddenly spoke. It wasn’t very loud, it wasn’t big and booming. But it was loud enough to get everyone’s attention. It was sad. Bitter. Yearning. “We’ve got our own family, and it’ll be just as good without her in it.”

The soft tone of his voice made Markus confused. She...was his _mother._ He didn’t understand how she could reject him like that. With his green eye, and the fact that his father had even said he was their son. He called her mom! Maybe if he used his voice from before, when he was still human, when he was still her _son,_ maybe it would have gone differently. Maybe they could have patched things up. He could still have her in his life. For however long she wanted him, he could be with her. A more rational part of himself that kind of relationship wouldn’t be sustainable. The childish part that just wanted his mother back said it didn’t matter as long as she was there. Markus himself was caught in the middle, tears welling up and falling into the mug of warmed thirium in his hands. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know, and he didn’t like not knowing. 

He didn’t know. 

But maybe his family did. 

Markus reached for his brothers’ hands as best he could while still holding the mug. Caleb gently took it from him and set it down on the nightstand he was closest to. Connor called over the others to come add themselves to the pile. Though with Hank he paused. 

  
  


“Hey Ha-- ...Dad?” Connor’s voice was meek. Like he was waiting for something bad to happen. But instead, Hank quickly turned around and looked at each of the RK models on the bed. Connor didn’t relax. “Do you...want to sit with us?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Con, I do.” Hank toed out of his shoes and told the boys to scoot over a bit, he settled behind Markus and Caleb, and wrapped his arms around the three of them. His cheek pressed against Markus’ head. “None of you deserved to hear her talk like that, I’m so sorry boys.” 

  
  


Hank pressed a kiss to the top of his head and mumbled that he loved them all. Then the others came to sit in varying places on the bed. Except North. She looked at the family on the bed, Markus hoped she registered it as _her family,_ before she shrugged and laid across the brothers’ legs. Simon gave a small smile at it and decided to curl up next to Connor while putting a hand on Markus’ leg. Well, as much of his leg that he could, considering North was across their laps mostly. Josh sat on the side with Caleb, letting North put her head in his lap and absently stroking her hair. Markus let out a breathy little huff of a laugh at the exaggerated strained noise his father made to move his arms and extended them around Simon and Josh to try and include them in the hug. 

  
  


“Yeah…” Markus closed his eyes and smiled, letting his head rest against his father’s jaw. “Just as good without her in it.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter's title was a bit misleading wasn't it? ah fuck, my poor boy


	30. Do You, Do You Still Love Me Like You Used To?

_ December 30th 2038 5:52 PM _

  
  


Despite what had happened at the beginning of the trip, it was still fun. Everyone had at least two things to bring home to show that they had taken little vacations. Markus was...still a bit disoriented from the first day of activities. Though he was still having an amazing time with his family. Because Hank was right, their family would be just as good without his mother in it. At the moment, they were in some diner by the water. Well. Markus was inside with Hank, the others were waiting outside. More than once, Markus had to remind his father that he didn’t actually need to eat anything. Also that he wasn’t even sure if he could. Which usually got a chuckle out of the man in the very least, making Markus smile as they waited in line.

With his father’s order in his hands, Markus backed into the door to push it open. He knew he didn’t have to. He wanted to, though, because sometimes he missed caring for someone. Maybe he could get a pet once they got back to Detroit. Or he could spend his spare time back home to take care of Sumo. Though...it wouldn’t be too difficult to move back home. He’d need an actual bed with a charging pad, but that wouldn’t be too much of a problem. Though considering the fact that the twins didn’t want to stay with the rest of Jericho nor in Carl’s house, it was a safe bet that they’d stay with Hank. Markus...actually felt a bit giddy at the idea. Remodelling his old room to better suit his little brothers. 

It would need some deep cleaning in the carpet after three years of dust, and probably could use a new coat of paint. The closet would have to be cleared out of his clothes and old boxes of toys. But they could make a weekend out of it. Declaring what would be worth saving, and what was functional enough to be donated. If Caleb or Connor wanted any of his old things, he’d give it to them. It wasn’t like he really wanted to keep anything other than the Marvel comics, his star and moon rug, and the giant isopod plush. Markus realised very suddenly that those would be some of the only things tying him to that room. Without those items in it… It really wouldn’t be his anymore. A piece of Cole Anderson coming back to him. Not that he ever left, but...it would be like coming home. Falling back into place. It just...felt  _ right. _

North’s boisterous laughter shook Markus out of his thoughts as he followed Hank to the table. It was a red-orange picnic table, the paint was flaking in places and looked like it could do with being replaced. Much to Connor’s dismay actually. He was picking at the peeling paint in places, muttering to himself about how dangerous it could be to eat at the table. Hank paid him no mind as they sat down with the others and fell into natural conversation. Markus was across from North at the table, sitting between Hank and Simon. North was between Josh and Caleb, Connor on the end of their side of the table. It was...comfortable. Yes, he liked having one of the other Jericho leaders by his side. But seeing two of them sitting next to his little brothers was wonderful. 

They spoke about the trip for a while. Caleb’s favourite activity thus far was the botanical gardens, which wasn’t very surprising given his love for flowers. They had to skirt by the rose exhibit and try and distract him enough so he wouldn’t look over and see them, though. Because apparently red roses were most humans’ favourite. On a lighter note, Josh’s favourite was the antique market. Honestly, Markus wasn’t sure if it was because he simply liked antiques, or because he had fun spouting the history of said antiques to anyone who would listen. Which was usually Markus due to his love of such things himself. 

Simon honestly had a blast in the public library, as did Hank. The two of them paired together and told the others to meet them back at the library in an hour or so. What the others found upon coming back to grab the two was… A sight to see. Hank and Simon huddled up in a corner of the library with stacks of real physical books surrounding them. The two of them talking about which ones they liked and which ones they didn’t. Markus saved the little video he took to his permanent memory storage with a heart. It was going to be a favourite for decades to come, he just could tell. It would be good to reflect on in coming years, to remember where he came from and who had helped shape him into who he was. 

North absolutely  _ loved _ the zoo, they basically had to drag her out at the end of their visit. She wouldn’t stop talking about how much she adored the otters and wanted to hug the pandas. Markus made a note to make sure they didn’t let her hang around the hands-oh exhibits for too long if they were to go again. She tried to convince them to let her smuggle out a small rodent for a good ten minutes, and it took Hank another ten minutes to convince her to put it down and let it be. Connor’s favourite was also the zoo, but he was much more tame about it. Until they got to the aquatic animals. Then someone had to hold onto him so he wouldn’t wander off to go check out something that had caught his eye. It was usually Josh or Simon who had to grab his sleeve or jacket. 

Though Markus’ favourite had to be the Lubeznik Center for the Arts. What could he say, he was a creature of habit. He absolutely adored looking through the various galleries and commenting on pieces. He and Josh actually had a wonderful time in the historical galleries, and started spouting art history at one another. He didn’t think anyone else knew what he was talking about for the most part, until Hank had chimed in with his meager art history knowledge. It was the thought that counted. Besides, Markus was over the moon that both of his fathers had some appreciation for art. Not that he didn’t remember Hank coming home occasionally with pictures or paintings to hang up in the house. But to hear him say something about art history while in a center for arts? It made Markus giddy like nothing else. 

They chatted about their favourite parts of the trip, seeing as it would be coming to a close soon. The beginning was rocky at best, but it had become such a lovely outing. Markus smiled to himself as he listened to his family’s chatter around him, and he looked out onto the water. It calmed him. Made him feel at peace. He could almost feel fabric under his fingertips, somewhat scratchy wool from a sweater older than he was. Markus closed his eyes with a wistful smile on his face, chin in his hand and his elbow resting on the table. He let the memory wash over him; it was mostly colours and smells. There was the sweater, green and cable knit. He ran his fingers over the fabric and could smell the baked goods as well as the water. There was a lot of blue; the sky, the table, the water, his cup. There were the smells of the other patrons' lunches, and other smells that came with a diner. 

  
  


“How we feelin’?” North poked Markus’ forehead. He opened his eyes to see her smiling at him. “Having fun yet?”

“I’d like to clarify that I never said I wasn’t.” 

“Oh yeah, totally.” Caleb playfully rolled his eyes and pointed across the table at Hank. “Because you constantly asking Dad if he’s okay is the definition of fun.”

“You can’t blame me after the first day!” Markus huffed gently and looked over at his father when he heard a soft incredulous noise come from him. “None of us deserved to hear what my mother said--”

“I don’t remember saying any of that shit, thank you very much.” North grinned and leaned back slightly on the bench, holding onto the table so she could go a little further back. Markus gawked at her. “What? We all know I’m basically your mom. I may be younger than you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be the mom friend, Markus. I can be Mama North!”

“She’s gone all soft…” Simon shook his head with a smile. 

“Too soft, wherever did our punchy North go?” Josh lamented with a suppressed laugh, causing Simon to snicker as North somewhat lunged and batted at them both. “Sometimes I can still hear her voice!”

  
  


The group quickly became a mess of laughter and banter. In the midst of it, Markus realised this was it.  _ This _ was his family. There were people missing, and thus it would never really feel complete. But the people he had surrounded himself with at the table, the family he had through the DPD, Sumo back at home. Markus had a family again. He wasn’t exactly sure when that happened, or who was the start of it. Maybe it was Carl… It had to be. He couldn’t think of who else it might have been, the first one to create a family around him. Markus...had a  _ family. _ He had his parents; Hank and North. He had his uncles; Jeff, Gavin, and Simon. He had his brothers; Josh, Connor, and Caleb. Technically Sumo was his puppy brother, but he wasn’t sure how much the massive animal counted as a brother. Hank referred to them both as his sons, so he had to count. 

But that was beside the point. The point was; things had worked out. He had gone from a six year old child, to a three year old android, to a nine year old being that pushed the boundaries of what it meant to be human. Of what it meant to be  _ alive. _ Markus was so much more than he used to be. He had lived two lives, had two vastly different experiences with humanity and society. He knew both sides. He understood both sides. Life wasn’t easy for either of them, humans or androids. It was a mess. It was terribly messy and confusing and an awful time. But it was also beautiful and exciting and thrilling. Always something new to discover, something new to see, to taste, to experience. Life was...life. And here Markus was living it with the best people he could ever have by his side. 

Markus watched his family laugh and talk to each other. He couldn’t help it, even though he really tried, he cried. He laughed and he wiped the tears away as best he could with a great big smile on his face. He spoke through his tears, telling his family how thankful for them he was. How he loved them, and he wished they would only have good times in their lives from now on. A hush fell over them all as he spoke. As his voice cracked and got staticy in some places. But he continued on. He told Josh how much he appreciated his company and thanked him for never turning him away, even discovering that he was a human once. A hushed murmur of an ‘I love you’ was tacked onto the end, he wasn’t sure how comfortable he was telling people he loved them in public yet. He told Simon how thankful for his advice he was, and that he would always remember the hug when they reunited in the old freighter. This time the phrase came easier, smoother. Markus told Simon he loved him with a little more confidence.

Markus reached across the table and held North’s hand in his own and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. She never  _ had _ to take him in as her own, and yet she did. He said that he loved her, and he was thankful for her motherly influence on his life as a deviant. Markus reached beside himself and held his father’s hand. Though he didn’t address Hank yet. He spoke to the twins, saying that he always wanted a little brother or two that he could teach about comic books and superheroes. That they would always have someone on their side as long as he was around. Markus thanked Connor for going with the deviants, he thanked Caleb for trusting him. He told them he loved them both with a watery laugh. 

Markus turned to face his father properly, to look him in the eye as he cried and told him he remembered. He remembered so much of his life from before, when he was still a human child named Cole. That he would always be thankful for everything that happened back then. The good and the bad. Sumo would always be a favourite memory, of course. Every child could benefit from a dog, he certainly did. Markus chuckled to himself at that. But he told his father that he loved him. Long after he would be in the ground turning to dust, he would love him. Long after their family members that were also human would be given back to the earth, he would love him. That even in the virtually forever he had left of his own life, he would love him. 

They both were a crying mess. 

Hank let out a soft sound and hugged Markus tightly in his arms, gently running a hand through the short hair on the back of his head. 

  
  


“I love you.” Markus closed his eyes as he pressed his face into his father’s shoulder. After a beat of silence, aside from his and his father’s tears, Markus felt his other family members gathered around to join the hug. “I love you all so, so much.”

“We love you too, Markus.” Hank’s voice was soft next to his ear. Kind and loving. Very emotional. “We’ll always love you.”

  
  
  
  



	31. Do You, Do You, Do You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy, we got an epilogue of sorts!! I thought that this would be a good way to end the story, emotional but loving and somewhat hopeful. Encompassing of family my dear readers

_September 6th 2293 4:17 PM_

  
  


Markus held the red umbrella tightly in his hand, letting it rest against his left shoulder. His movements were sluggish at best as he walked through the rain. He could feel it now. The rain and how it would hurt his joints. How it ached in the biocomponents he shoved onto himself back in the junkyard. His eye ached the most today, though it did that a lot these days. Sometimes things would be too saturated, or too dull, some days he couldn’t see through it at all. Today was a day where it actually worked like he wanted it to. No tricks of the light or wonky depth perception. Just a perfectly functional blue iris spare part. Pretty soon he’d have to replace the parts from the junkyard, he was just amazed that they had continued functioning as long as they had. 

He could think more on that later, he’d have to ask Niles if he could help with making new parts. Maybe they could keep the iris blue, he certainly would have preferred if he kept his blue eye. Right now he was visiting someone. It felt...weird to be around all of the graves. He held back a shudder at the thought that his body, his _human_ body, was still in the ground. But it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to put it. Back then, there were no real laws regarding his circumstances. He was the only case that they knew of. With a soft sigh, Markus bent over slightly so he could rub at the side of his left knee. He didn’t really want to be here. But today was his dad’s birthday. They had a rule for birthdays. Markus intended to make sure he never broke that rule, even over two hundred years later. 

Once in front of the grave, he crouched down. It killed his knees, but he wasn’t about to soak his jeans by sitting on the ground. Markus heard the footsteps behind him and waited. Waited until they stopped before he really did anything. He reached into his jacket pocket, the big blue one from the night of the march on the recall plant. Inside were a few small trinkets and snacks. His favourites. He deserved nothing less. Markus took the items out of his pocket and looked at them a moment. A red dog’s collar, a few small wild flowers he liked, and three cookies of varying brands he loved. It felt odd leaving them. Well, Markus took the old tag off and set the collar down on the grave. As well as the flowers in various places, then the cookies. 

He began to speak quietly. Reminiscing about the adventures they had, the family outings. He smiled and he laughed. Markus gently touched his fingertips to the marble, tracing over the letters and muttering to himself about how much of a pain in the ass he used to be. But that they all loved him anyway. Tears welled up in Markus’ eyes as he looked at the headstone. As he thought about every moment he could that they had together. Just how much they loved each other. The warm summer evenings, chilly but comfortable winter nights. Every time they went to the park or went swimming or just hung out in the backyard. 

Tears poured from Markus’ eyes as he said he missed him. That he wanted nothing more than to be able to hug him and tell him he loved him again. To be able to cook for him, no matter how difficult the recipe was. The early morning walks and conversations. He loved the kisses and the, admittedly, strange noises he would make when surprised. Or the odd habits he had right before going to bed. The way he was a creature of habit and liked to get the same brands for his food. It was silly, he was silly at times. But he was everything. He was so much. Markus loved him so much. He still did, and he always would.

Markus was a mess. Every time he came to visit, every time he left something. It only took a little bit for him to break down. To burst into tears and remain inconsolable until one of his family members came to tell him that he had lived a long life. That it was happy and filled with love, surrounded by family and friends. Realistically, Markus knew that. He was there. When it happened. He watched with his scanners as his vitals faded into nothing. As his surrounding family members were silent out of respect, out of shock, out of whatever was going through their heads. Markus watched as the life left him, knowing he had a good life. His existence on earth was fleeting, but it was loved. Markus scrubbed at the tears falling down his face, feeling as he slipped just a bit. Just like every other time he came here. Into a time where he was a human child, and his family was very much fully alive. 

  
  


“Markus,” The voice came from behind him. “C’mon, it’s time to go. Did you forget Connor’s dinner?”

“I didn’t, I just…” Markus stood up and looked his companion in the eye. He couldn’t quite meet it though, instead looking back down at the grave. “It’s just weird to be here without Connor is all.”

“I know, son. But you know the birthday rule.”

“As long as it’s harmless we do whatever the birthday individual asks, within reason.” 

“Damn right.” Hank looked down at the grave of their beloved family pet and sighed, moving his wet hair out of his face. “Kinda wish Elijah could’ve found a way to stick Sumo in a body. God knows the big baby woulda loved it.”

  
  


Thoughts of Sumo bouncing around like he did when he was still a puppy raced through Markus’ mind. It certainly would have been interesting to try and deal with in terms of the relative immortality he and his family were in possession of. Though...maybe it would have been for the best that Sumo didn’t live forever. It wasn’t like he could travel the world as easily as the rest of them could. Markus would have loved to take Sumo around the world, to get back the years he didn’t have with him. But what was three missing years compared to more than a century or two? It wouldn’t be fair to him. 

  
  


“Yeah...he would’ve.” Markus shuffled up next to his father and held the umbrella over their heads. “Why didn’t you bring an umbrella today?”

“Call me a sentimental human bastard,” Hank shrugged and started walking slowly, Markus followed along. “But I like to feel the rain soak into my hair and clothes. It feels...good. D’you remember the first time I tried to get you to do that with your short hair?”

Markus’ mind raced just thinking about it. He wouldn’t say he had PTSD, at least not like humans did. But he did have some sort of...trauma response to it the very first time it happened. The first spring rain after the new year. It was beautiful outside, then it started downpouring. Hank, Markus, Caleb, Gavin, and North were in the living room watching a movie when the thunder rolled in. Markus knew he loved to sit out in storms as a kid, he could remember it perfectly well. Especially considering he had recovered most of his memories at that time. But when Hank dragged him outside to sit in the storm, he froze up. He started shaking and crying, apologising to people that weren’t there and stumbling around like when he had first put on those new legs. Legs that were so terribly old now. 

Oh, Hank didn’t know what to do at the time. He started to freak out and tried to drag him back inside the house, only to be shoved back against the house by a panicking Markus. Honestly, he couldn’t really remember what happened after that. Markus only knew what the others told him. That he didn’t calm down until he was dried off, nice and comfy in his soft pajamas with a blanket wrapped around him, and of course Sumo’s head in his lap. To be honest… Markus wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to remember. So he left it alone and never asked the others what had happened. Needless to say, he didn’t like being out in storms unless he had an umbrella with him these days. He still loved them. But they made him unpredictable in relation to his emotional state.

  
  


“Oh, it was awful!” Markus shook his head and laughed. Lightning cracked across the sky and thunder distantly rumbled. “I almost passed out, I think. Too many memories of the junkyard.”

“Yeah, but North threatening to kick my ass was actually pretty hilarious.” Hank let out his own laugh and nudged Markus with his shoulder. “You gotta admit that.”

“Mm, maybe. But at the time you looked like you were about to fucking _run._ ” 

“Oh god, yeah, I thought she was actually gonna rip my goddamn eyes out or something!” Markus honestly wouldn't put it past North to try. “At the time? Terrifying. Looking back? It was hilarious and I kinda deserved it.”

  
  


Markus hummed in agreement and listened to his father talk. It was his birthday after all, he was turning three hundred and eight today. Besides, Markus liked to listen to him talk. He could remember how terrified he was that he’d never hear his father’s voice again. He probably shouldn’t have spoken to Elijah about it, in retrospect. But he was a scared child at the time. He called the only person he knew who could help. Markus...didn’t exactly give his father a choice. He helped Elijah make the body, he made the sculpt of his father’s face in a day. He was tired and irritable the whole time. But he was able to speed the process along, it only took a few weeks rather than a few months. It didn’t take very long for the cerebral scanning technology to work it’s magic and basically transfer Hank Anderson from his human body, and into an android one. 

At the time, he was _pissed._ He had made peace with the universe and whatever may lay beyond life, viewed himself as ready to die. Hank felt he had lived a long enough life that was still more good than bad. He hadn’t accounted for his son being terrified and just wanting his family to stay intact. They both knew it was such a horribly selfish decision. That Markus never should have been the one to be able to make that decision. Though a few months later, they reconciled. Somehow, miraculously, Hank had come to Markus saying he understood. If there was a way that he knew of, he would have taken the option to keep his son alive in a heartbeat. Of course, the part where no one knew he _was_ alive was the important part of the metaphor. 

“Do you remember that time the neighbour’s kid threw a water balloon at you after you got in this body?”

“And I deactivated my skin to scare the shit outta him? Sure, why?”

“I’m just thinking about our lives.” Markus smiled as he saw Niles waiting by the car, ready to take them home to get changed and then go to Connor’s dinner. “You’re such an odd old man.”

“Yeah, well, you’re old now too, kiddo.” Hank thanked Niles for bringing the car around and got in the back seat. Markus followed suit after giving his youngest brother a kiss on the cheek. “I never got to thank you properly for that, by the way…”

“You were mad at me for _months,_ Dad.” Markus deadpanned and let the umbrella lean against his leg on the floor, getting his pant leg wet. “I didn’t know if you’d thank me or smack me for it.”

“Well I’m thankin’ ya for it, Markus. I understand.” Hank put a hand on Markus’ shoulder and then pulled him close for a hug. The wetness of his clothes was awful, but Markus hugged him back just as tightly. “I love you, you know that. I’m so proud of you. Thank you so much for still wanting me in your life.”

“There’s no way I wouldn’t, Dad.” Markus smiled as his father gave him one final squeeze before letting go. Markus leaned back in his seat and contentedly closed his eyes. “I love you too, by the way.”

  
  


The future was uncertain and the past was painful at times. But the future was also a land of opportunity and the past was a treasure trove of wonderful memories. 

Markus could say with absolute certainty, as he listened to the centuries old song by a band that had long since died, that his father still loved him like he used to. 

That fact would never change. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I have Niles put on the song that inspired this whole fanfic? Yes, yes I did. 
> 
> I bet I had you guys in the first couple paragraphs,,, Fuck I'm sorry about that, but I wanted it to be bittersweet when you found out it was actually Hank with the boy


End file.
